Nicknamed Wolf
by code name baron
Summary: Kim only tried to save the boy from the lake. However, when she came up for air, she was no longer in her time. Left alone in a time and place not her own, she must make the best of it and try to survive the brutal times. Of course, fate that already was unkind to her, throws her in the path of the man so feared, people called him Wolf. - AU with time travel, romance and humor.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This story takes a premise from Korean drama _Moon Lovers, Scarlet Hearts: Goryo._ In it, a modern day girl slips in time almost thousand years back and finds herself in the midst of the games of thrones - ancient Korea style. Her great love would eventually become an emperor, but would lose her. He was the unlikeliest to win the throne, partly because he was disfigured (ancient Koreans believed it to be a mark of misfortune) and partly because he had the reputation for violence and bad temper. Of course, there is more to that and he had the 'tragic backstory' cliche down.

Of course, I'm changing a lot of it. In fact, most of my story is different. Location, time-frame and no one would have a claim to a throne...

So, Kim travels in time and Jack is the disfigured and feared nobleman, set out to carve a place for himself.

* * *

Kim Crawford could honestly say that she had always had a talent for finding adventures. All sorts of unusual incidents and circumstances happened to her and she had gotten used to finding herself in tight spots. Living in North Carolina and being subjected to the rigors of the Southern upbringing, Kim had been a source of constant disappointment and chastisement for her mom and grandma. She was too much like a boy - running, climbing trees, getting dirty in stagnant creeks, breaking windows and scraping knees. Of course, it also meant that her family tried to get her to be more lady like too. So she often had to sit through additional lessons in music, French, and proper deportment as a punishment for various adventures. By the time Kim was 16 she was an interesting mix of refinement and an indomitable spirit, with a sense of fairness and a soft spot for an underdog, because she saw herself as one.

She was slender, blonde and knew how to present herself, but the energetic nature often left her with scrapes and bruises on knees and elbows, and freckles on her pert nose. She was pretty, but it was her unusually bright eyes and a ready smile that made her stand out in the crowd.

Despite her penchant for finding trouble, Kim was not ready for this turn of events.

She was traveling with her family in Great Britain. In Devon, to be precise. It was supposed to be a big family trip before they relocated to California. Kim looked forward to being on the West Coast: she was sure she'd be happier in the less structured place. The summer trip was awesome too, of course. She wasn't all that much into history, but it was interesting to see the place, where her dad's family hailed from so long ago. Dad waxed poetic about old English Kings. How bloody were the medieval times, the constant struggle for the throne, the power of the landed barons, the Crusades, the capture of Richard the Lionheart.

This rung a bell to Kim - she did watch the BBC period drama about Robin Hood.

"Oh? I thought Robin of Locksley was in Sherwood Forest..."

Her dad smiled indulgently, "Yes. It was near London. But here, in Devon, lived one of the great actors of that historical period. William Bruer was a Baron, held numerous lands, forests, position as a justice and played a role in a council that managed England while Richard the Lionheart was in the Promised Land. William joined the king even. He must have been a good warrior. And was an interesting character. Managed to keep his position through the reign of Richard and his brother, the petty and cruel King John. Was a close advisor to Richard. And a pious man. He built two abbeys and left his son with expanded lands. Not an easy feat in those times."

"So, was he like the sheriff of Sherwood Hall?"

"Much more influential, I'd wager. And, consider, this were still fairly decentralized times. What with monarchs absent on the Crusades. So local barons were true rulers over their lands. They had a lot of power and exercised it frequently. He was the lord, the justice, the taxing authority, and, when necessary, the defender. Great power."

Her dad sounded impressed and her mother patted his hand affectionately, "You're saying he was a powerful lord in medieval times, right? Does it mean he abused all that power?"

"Darling, those were the dark times. To achieve what he had, he must have been a tough leader, who made tough choices, and a great warrior."

Kim, who was listening to their conversation, added, "Those were difficult times. Noble people lived by the sword and died by the sword. Nowadays, we can't imagine the sort of hardships and brutality that was medieval Europe."

They walked slowly through the remnants of the old castle and the walls of the fort. The day started sunny, which only got hotter as hours went on. Her parents stopped by the gift shop and she left them there, walking over to the pond or a lake on the grounds of the castle and breathed in the fragrant air of nearby trees and flowers. It was beautiful.

Her peaceful moment was pierced by the loud voice and she turned to see that a boy of four or five was in the water, splashing his arms around and screaming for his mom. The poor woman was holding another child in her arms and yelled for help. Kim huffed and took off running, thinking that it was just like her luck to play an impromptu life guard. She ran and took a dive into the water, thanking her years of playing in creeks for the decent swimming skills. The boy was in her arms soon enough and she swam back awkwardly, holding him around his chest and towing the shivering boy back to the small pier. She passed him safely to other people, who were crowing the small structure and got ready to haul herself up.

But maybe she overestimated her own skills. The sudden cramp in one of the legs made her abandon the motion and it made her fall back into the water, sinking under. She tried to push up again, but the water was heavy and moved slowly. Her legs camped all over and she could barely move them. Fear started to crawl up her spine and she beat the water around her with her quickly tiring arms. The lake that seemed peaceful and warm just moments ago, got colder and colder and she slowly realized that she was sinking deeper and deeper.

The yellow circle of the sun appeared almost colorless through the thick layer of murky water and it as it grew dim, Kim thought that she probably wouldn't make out of this adventure.

When the last of the air in her lungs left in a bubble and the world fractured into streaks of darkness, something pushed her from below. Something large, like a wave in the ocean, and she broke the surface dragging huge gasping breaths.

Her worldview, still shaky and dim, slowly settled into a nonsensical picture. She was in the river, not a lake. It was definitely somewhere in the forest and the castle was nowhere to be seen.

She tried to swim back to the shore, but her limbs moved slowly weighed down by heavy clothes. She was sure she wasn't wearing a skirt and long sleeves when she went into the lake. Putting all these incongruities aside, she managed to get to the shore. She collapsed and tried to catch her breath after the near drowning. Lying on her back she took in the scenery. She was definitely in a wooded area and it looked wild, untamed, un-manicured. So, a forest then. Still made no sense, but maybe the currents drug her somewhere?

She sat up when she heard a sound of soft footfalls on the ground and she looked up.

And then blinked.

And looked on.

There was a group of people riding horses. And they were very peculiarly dressed. Like it was a renaissance fair happening and these people were into LARPing.* Only their clothes and horses' dressage all looked... authentic. The cloth was loosely woven, baggy, wrinkled; colors were dull and pale. Something not typical of clothes made nowadays.

They reached her position and the obvious leader of the group stopped and then spoke to her.

To her dismay she only was able to understand _milady_ in the beginning and then the rest sounded vaguely Germanic and incomprehensible.*

He spoke again, but she stared unable to understand and when she was about to voice her confusion the man spoke with visible hesitation.

"Mademoiselle, vous êtes qui? Qu'est-ce que vous faites ici?" (Who are you? What are you doing here?)*

He spoke slowly and it was obvious he wasn't very fluent in French, but at least it was something she could understand. She responded in French, happy now with all the extra lessons she was forced to take.

"I was at the castle in Devon and I fell into a lake, but it now is - somehow - a river... I am not sure how that is possible. There was a boy who was drowning and I went to get him. And other people on the pier..." She trailed off not sure how to explain all the incongruities. "I need to get back to the castle."

The man's eyes widened and he quickly got off the horse and bowed to her smartly. "My apologies, milady. Broderick Carter at your service. I had been traveling and had not received any correspondence since I left my estate. I was not aware that Lord Marshall had visitors at this time."

 _Lord Marshall?_

She repeated the name even as the man's words sunk in. "Who is Lord Marshall? I don't mean to impose, I merely need to get back to the castle in Devon. I am sure my family is worried about me."

"His Lordship is the Dean of York and his is the only castle nearby. You mentioned that you _fell into a lake?"_ His words were polite, but questioning and his eyes sharpened. "Who were the boy and the people, who saw you falling?"

Kim was realizing quickly that the situation was not exactly as she expected. The little strange details were piling up and she suddenly was very concerned that she was unsafe. These people spoke very formal French and their clothes were very old-fashioned, their mode of transportation was outdated as well, and this strange Lord Marshall, who was the Dean of York and... She looked at her own clothes that was heavy and long, in the style of the medieval lady's dress, like the portraits she'd seen in the castle... She had a sinking feeling that she was not in Kansas anymore and cursed her own knack for adventures.

"Sir, would you mind telling me where exactly am I? And what year it is?"

The man looked at her with confusion, "We are in York, milady, and it is the year of 1189."

Kim gasped, her vision tunneling and the air becoming too heavy to breathe. She tried to fight to stay conscious, but it was too much for her tired mind and she welcomed the darkness that enveloped her.

* * *

She came to in a dark room. She sprung up, but moaned and laid back down when her head spun a little. She studied the low ceiling above er bed, taking in the details that she could see. The room must have been in one of those historical places: in addition to low ceiling, the windows were awfully small, barely letting any light in, there were candelabras on the low dresser and the candles were thick. The mattress was lumpy and she was sure that she did not own a long white nightgown that was on her at the moment. She remembered passing out in front of the French-speaking man - Broderick - and figured she was brought to some hotel or an inn. Unfortunately, the reason for her fainting spell was all to fresh in her mind. Somehow she came across people who took their Ren-fair play-acting way too seriously, even going so far as to speak French.

The cold and nagging feeling that she had been ignoring was telling her that it was real and no reenactment could get the details so right, but she willed herself to believe that it was all some big joke and she would be able to go back to home and parents.

When the throbbing in her head slowed, Kim rose slowly and took several steps. Her head hurt but she was otherwise unharmed and she decided to investigate her whereabouts. The window was closed and she couldn't figure out the way to open it. That left her with the door. It was not locked and she quietly pried it open. The hallway was fairly short and lead to a staircase landing. She was about to step out, when she realized that her nightgown was made of a very thin fabric and was see-through. She flushed and went back to her room to find anything to cover herself up. She only found the dress from earlier on, which wasn't hers and impossible to put on without help. She was in luck as there was a large shawl that she wrapped around herself and went back to investigate.

Creeping slowly to the landing she could hear people talking. She recognized the voice of Broderick from before, but that was all she could understand. He spoke the same incomprehensible language that sounded German and she could only catch a few words here and there. Still, she gathered that they discussed her, if the repeated use of words _magden_ and _madencild_ was anything to go by. She overheard something that sounded like earl-bird* and despaired as to what it could possibly mean.

Her hope to understand anything dwindled and she went past the landing to investigate the rest of the hallway. Surprisingly, there was another staircase, narrow and dirty, but it was empty and she went downstairs in hopes of finding the exit.

Only when she stepped through the door, she wished she hadn't.

The yard was full of activity. More people in Ren-fair garb were walking around, speaking that same awful gibberish; there were stables nearby and the whole place smelled of animals and burnt wood. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, tears slowly falling down her face.

She couldn't fool herself any longer...

She was roused from her pity-party when someone loudly yelled and there was a sudden hush over the yard. She opened her eyes and saw that everyone was staring at her. Men leered and women had judging looks on their faces. She pulled the shawl tightly around herself and lifted her chin high. She wasn't naked or indecent and she was not going to be judged.

Remembering that the local language was not something she spoke, she chose French.

"Where am I? I demand that I am taken to my family."

Her words had a strange effect. Men looked away and women lowered their eyes. Yet, still no one moved.

"Well? Take me to my family!"

Then there was a deep voice behind her, speaking in accented French.

"I am afraid it is not possible at the moment, milady."

She turned around and saw Broderick standing there. He quickly averted his eyes and took his cloak off to put it on her.

"Milady must not feel well after her accident. She must return to her bed," he said it loudly, his words carrying over the crowd. To her, he whispered, "Milady, I worry that your accident had more consequences to your health. You seem to have lost some of your _understanding._ It is not appropriate for a lady to show herself in her undergarments."

He was moving her slowly back into the inn and she didn't want to continue this farce any longer, "I want to go back to my parents, sir. Please, I need to to contact them."

"A messenger to Devon will take a while, milady. Traveling such distance in your condition would be ill-advised. I sent a message to Lord Marshall. A carriage for you is on its way."

"You keep mentioning this Lord Marshall, but I only need to contact the local authorities," she kept talking even as they slowly progressed indoors.

"But he is that, milady," Broderick was frustratingly polite. "His lordship is the sheriff of York and contacting him is the proper procedure. If your family is searching for you, they will contact him as well."

They were inside at this point and she stopped to take in the inside of the inn. It was dirty, with hay on the floor and a giant hearth visible behind a long counter. Roughly polished tables and benches were occupied by the group men she saw earlier in the woods. All of them stared at her agog and she blushed. A harsh shout from Broderick made them all drop their eyes and she was pushed gently in the direction of the staircase.

"Please, milady. Go to your room and I shall sent a repast to you."

Kim finally came to a complete acceptance that she was not in her time and that this strange world is going to be hers for a while.

"I am not going home anytime soon, am I?" she said it in normal English and mostly to herself and Broderick only looked askance.

Of course, he could not understand her.

No one could.

She was well and truly in the past.

* LARP - live action reenactment.

* In Anglo-Saxon England, the language was still fairly old Germanic and would be incomprehensible to a modern-day English speaker.

* Most of the nobles at the time spoke French in coirt, used Latin for correspondence, and old English to speak to each other and the lower classes.

* Magden and madencild means 'young woman's and eorlgebyr is Old English for 'of noble birth.'

A/N: I'll avoid most of the foreign language or words in the future. I wanted to show just how greatly Kim's circumstances changed when she slipped back in time.

Also, let me know if this is an interesting setup. I am not a huge history buff, but some of the facts are based in real history. Also, I promise, most of the story is romance and some humor.


	2. Chapter 2

She spent the night crying.

After the food was delivered to her room and a maid helped her bathe (and how weird was it that someone was there to bring buckets of hot water and then use some wash clothes and scrub her?), she fell into bed and just cried. What was she going to do? How as she going to get back? What brought her here? Should she try and get back to the castle in Devon and jump in the lake there? Was there some sort of portal, a wormhole, that connected the different time eras? She was never a great student of physics and it was straining her understanding of things. Remembering all the sci-fi movies and shows she saw in her lifetime, she wondered if there was some sort of confluence of astronomical or cosmic circumstances? Like planets aligned or there was an ionic rays storm?

It was clear that she could not accomplish anything here in York, and yet it was here that she was stranded. Lord Marshall, apparently the local ruler, would be deciding her fate in the coming days. She recalled what her dad (she ignored the pang of pain at the memory) saying how powerful the local lords were, how they could virtually decide whether you lived or died. And she knew nothing of the current times or mores. Was this the time with the Richard the Lionheart? The dates seemed to fit, but that was all she could confidently say about her knowledge of the situation. She was helpless here: all her life skills were firmly rooted in 21st century. She cooked and cleaned using modern appliances, she learned and spoke using modern English, she hasn't been to a farm and knew very little about gardening or anything that had to do with livestock, she didn't ride horses. Argh, this was so aggravating.

There was one thing going for her here: she could at least speak French and be understood. That and because Broderick Carter kept calling her _milady_ made her think that her appearance (in a medieval dress) and French skills marked her as a high-born person. Perhaps, only the nobles learned French?

Still, it didn't help her with anything else. How could she explain that a noble girl didn't know anything about the time she supposedly lived in?

The answer came to her with perfect clarity. She winced thinking it a cliché, but there was nothing for it: she had to feign amnesia. Then people would let it go that she didn't know things and would be more forthcoming with explanations. Perhaps, it would generate some sympathy too: here was the lost and lonely girl, with no memory to help her survive.

So decided, she finally was able to fall into a fitful sleep, marred by nightmares of drowning.

Next morning the same maid showed up and gestured that Kim were to clean up and then put on a dress, the same one Kim wore before only clean and dry. This time Kim was grateful for the stranger's presence. The girl put the dress efficiently and fixed all the stays. She even helped to tame Kim's hair into a braided band across her front and letting in loose in the back.

She came downstairs and Broderick was already there standing by the small table. Obviously, they were to share a breakfast together.

"Milady, I am glad to see you in good health this morning."

She had to admit that he was handsome and his manners were impeccable as far as she could tell. He wasn't quite as tall, but his figure was trim and it was obvious that he was a person of some consequence.

"Thank you, Sir," she demurred. "I feel better."

"If I may be so bold, milady. The circumstances are such that I must ask you to introduce yourself. Forgive my impertinence in doing so."

Kim figured that it was not polite for two strangers to meet without someone introducing them to each other. What other customs were there that she wasn't aware of?

"I-" she trailed off and tried to muster her meager acting skills to pull off the next part. "I- that is- My name-"

It was now or never.

She made a hiccoughing noise and remembered that she was in a wrong place in a wrong time and the tears came very naturally, alarming her companion.

"I- I don't know! I don't remember! Why can't I remember my own name!" the tears spilled from her eyes and Broderick jumped for his chair in his haste to give her a handkerchief. She grabbed it and hid her face in it, not sure if she could continued this farce much longer.

"Milady! Please- I did not mean- Oh, please- Stop..." she shook her head and gave a dramatic heaving sigh that tested the limits of the dress' seams. Incidentally, it made her breast heave in the most dramatic fashion. She might have stunned Broderick. Between paralyzing tears and heaving bosom, he was torn. "Milady, it is understandable. The drowning must have caused you to lose your memories. They may come back! Please, stop crying. You will be alright, I promise."

She lifted her face at him and stared, giving her best go at Disney princess face. Widened eyes, slightly trembling chin, teeth worrying the lower lip, slow blinking. He was stunned again. "How can you be so sure? I don't know my name or where my family is! I can only recall the lake in the Devon and then, it's nothing! What if I never remember? What will happen to me?"

He fluttered his hands a little, then gathered his courage and took her hand in his. He placed a light kiss on it and spoke quietly, "Your family would be looking for you, milady. And until they find you, I would protect you. You do not have to fear anything."

"What if I am an orphan? What if no one is looking for me?"

"There must be someone missing you. You lived before with someone, who clothed you in fine clothing and gave you tutors to learn French, milady. You do not speak the peasants' tongue. I can only conclude that you are either an Anglo-Saxon miss or you traveled here from the continent. Wherever you hail from, you are a lady and therefore, someone is looking for you, ma belle dame."

From then on he called her Belle.

She felt a little guilty...

* * *

It was decided that Broderick and his men would stay until Lord Marshall's carriage arrived. She was grateful for that as she quickly realized that hardly anyone spoke French. She used the little downtime to try and learn the Anglo-Saxon that would eventually become English. It was a slow go and she spent time listening to people around her, trying to identify the familiar words.

Broderick brought her a dress so she had at least two in her rotation.

She watched the maid prepare her bath and tried to identify various oils used in the bathing process. In her time Kim was a girl, who liked her cosmetics and she looked at the medieval skincare with curiosity. At least it was all organic, she mused.

On the third day of their stay, a large carriage pulled by two horses, arrived at the inn. It seemed that she was to go and meet the local lord.

Trepidation was overwhelming her and she was glad Broderick was near her. He and his men traveled with her, providing a security that apparently was necessary. Highway bandits were an actual thing here and Kim almost laughed to herself, imagining Robin Hood and his merry men ambushing their party. But others didn't share her humor. They were armed at all times, but she could tell that they were particularly on high alert when they entered the woods. She wondered of her karate skills would be a match to some determined bandit.

In the end, the trip was uneventful. In fact, it was boring. Kim counted trees and looked through windows and even attempted to sit on the horse, all to alleviate the boredom. Broderick rode next to her carriage and sometimes they talked. She liked the man: he was her only friend right now and he was so supportive. She learned that his title was that of the baron and his lands were under the Lord Marshall's purview. He was skilled in battle as was necessary for anyone in this time and was traveling for a wedding. Lord Marshall was meant to marry off his son. Little was known of the bride, other than the fact that she was traveling from the continent.

Kim was kinda looking forward to seeing what a wedding in 12th century would look like.

She also learned about the political situation. Not directly of course, as Broderick thought such topics were boring and hardly appropriate for a lady. Kim totally rolled her eyes at that point. And then argued with him that, of course, a lady should know such things if she were to be a proper daughter supporting her noble father or a husband. She should be helping him with forging alliances and ferreting out the enemies. He smiled and argued that a great father and husband would make it so that the womenfolk didn't have to worry about such things. She huffed very unladylike at that, which made him laugh.

Soon he relented and told her that Lord Marshall was influential as he was part of the circle of advisors to Richard the Lionheart. The King himself was on a Crusade and the day-to-day management of the Kingdom was left in hands of such advisors.

She recalled her father's conversation and tried to remember when the future King John made his attempt at coup-d'etat. Of course, she could not reveal anything of her future knowledge and she kept mum.

When they arrived at the York castle, she was shocked at the number of people around. It was a bustling village that lay before the castle gates and there was a brisk trade at the market. She tried to recall how many people lived in England then, but if her general knowledge of historically important facts was spotty, her knowledge of the actual life in those times was even worse. Suffice it to say, there were plenty of people.

They made it through the gates, guards and inhabitants greeting Broderick with warmth and respect. At her they looked with curiosity and she avoided those looks a little, afraid that somehow people could tell she was really faking it.

Almost immediately after she disembarked, she was taken to what would be her quarters. The maid was a very young girl of no more than fourteen, but fortunately she spoke some basic French words and she get Kim refreshed rather quickly. And then she was to face the Lord Marshall.

The main hall, where the Lord was seeing people, was a large and imposing room. It was somewhat dark despite the broad daylight outside, because windows were covered in stained glass. To make up for it, lit torches lined the walls.

She approached the man seated on a high chair with Broderick Carter by her side. She wouldn't lie: she was freaking out.

He was a middle-aged man, of slight build and ruddy face. Still, she could tell that he was used to his position of power. It was in the set of his head and the piercing look he gave them. Broderick bowed smartly and Kim tried to do her best curtsy.

"Sir Broderick Carter and a young lady of no name," was how they were announced. She winced at the greeting, but it was the best they could come up with.

"How was the road, Carter? No troubles, I hope?"

"None, your Lordship. And Milady Belle fared well during the journey, for which I am grateful."

"Yes, the mysterious lady that appeared like a water sprite in the river," the Lord's voice was measured and Kim almost began fidgeting where she stood. "You were in Devon, you said?"

"I- Yes, my lord. I have few recollections and one of them is of the castle in Devon."

"Do you think your family is in Devon, then?"

"I cannot be sure, my lord. There is a great haze over my memories, but I think I was traveling there with my family."

"Hmmm, your accent is different. It does not sound familiar. What else do you recall?"

She was freaking out now. The man could tell she had a different accent! Different from what? America wasn't a colony of England yet, so, of course, her accent was different. And Devon, she knew, was quite a distance from York! She had to say something...

"I believe- That is to say, I think, I came from abroad," she said quietly. There, _abroad_ could mean so many things, go figure it out.

"If I may, my lord," Broderick butted in. At Lord Marshall's nod, he continued, "Devon is south of here and had great many ports. It is possible that milady Belle traveled through Devon from the continent. She has no skills in our tongue."

The Lord raised an inquisitive brow, "Belle? Is that why you call her a French name?"

Broderick was almost blushing and only nodded, "Milady does not know her name. It fits."

"My young squire," the Lord smirked, "appears to be smitten already. You are a curious one, milady. Already acquiring a knight ready to defend and protect you."

Kim bowed her head lower, unsure if the comment was rhetorical, "Sir Carter is kindness himself."

"Hmm, you will stay here until we know who you are. I have sent news of you to Devon. If your family is there or if they traveled through those lands, I should hear from Baron Bruer soon enough. I hope you don't mind staying here, where I and young Carter can keep an eye on you?"

This time it was obvious that the question was really not a question, but rather an order. She was to stay put until they knew who she was. Perhaps they thought her a liar (she was) or some sort of enemy, here to spy (which she wasn't)...

She curtsied again and with a waive of Lord Marshall's hand she was dismissed.

* * *

It was another three days before anything interesting happened. In the meantime, she was given two more dresses and generally allowed to mind her own business. All her meals were taken in her room, but otherwise her movements were not restricted. She suspected that neither her host, nor Broderick thought her capable of running away. She knew no one, spoke no Anglo-Saxon, and could not ride a horse. So, she went about on her own. The castle was a large enough compound of the main building and various auxiliary structures. Life was always bustling there, servants running about and most of them already heard about the strange young woman, who only spoke French and could not remember about her life.

The third day of her stay in the York castle, she went outside the castle gates. Rose, the young maid, followed her out, miming that she would follow Kim and added something about 'finding path home.' Kim guessed that Rose worried that she would get lost. She didn't care. Being cooped in the same place for so long was tiresome and she took advantage of the nice day.

She was walking through the stalls of the market, looking at all the wares available at the village. Obviously she had no coins to pay with, but it was an entertainment nonetheless. She was so used to treating the local language as the background noise, it took her while to notice the increased tenor and volume of speech around her. Something was agitating the crowd and when the shouts became even more pronounced she looked at the source of it.

She could clearly hear the panicked yells of 'wolf!' all around her. People were scrambling off the street and merchants ducked behind their curtains or under the banks of their wares. A woman pulled her child roughly from the road, dragging the kid and making hasty crosses with her other hand.

"Wolf!" "Curs!" "Wolf!" "Hydan! "Wolf!" "Wolf!" _(wolf, cursed one, hide_ )

What in the world was happening? She looked on and then...

There, nearly galloping down the street, was a rider on a black horse, dressed fittingly in black. He was cleaving his way through now almost empty street. He clearly had no care for the havoc he was wrecking and people dashed away from him, eager to get out of his path.

Kim actually froze in place, having never seen such a scene in her life before. The rider was clearly excellent on the horseback, his movements one with the animal. She stared mesmerized and didn't notice as one kid, who was scrambling away from the rider, pushed her and she was losing her balance, hovering over the edge of a small creek that lined the street on one side. She waved her arms like a windmill trying to regain balance, eventualy losing the battle with gravity-

And then she was airborne. Something grabbed her by the waist and pulled her up and she closed her eyes from the sudden movement.

Only to be seated on something moving. She opened her eyes and stared into the eyes of the rider in black.

His left upper corner of the face was covered by a leather mask that hid half his forehead, left eye, and half the cheek. There was an opening for the eye, which was further obscured by the long bangs of deep brown that fell over his brow.

She stared in shock at the man, who so easily pulled her off the ground.

While galloping.

With one arm.

And not losing his balance.

Damn...

He was looking at her too. His eyes were the definition of hazel: mostly chocolate brown, with specks on green and gold, and the rest of his face was all chiseled cheekbones, straight nose and well-shaped lips.

Damn...

She was uncomfortable where she was on the edge of the saddle, but she could not move or even say anything. Her hands were tucked between them and she was leaning onto his left arm, sideways on the moving horse.

Another jostle by the horse and Kim finally winced. She felt then how the rider pulled the reins and the horse came to a slow walk.

Nothing was said between them still. Kim kept looking at the mysterious man and he was likewise looking at her.

In fact, it seemed like the entire village was quiet except for the sound of the bubbling water in the creek and barking of the nearby dogs.

Kim didn't realize she held her breath until her lungs burned and then she inhaled.

"Merci, monsieur," she finally said and it broke the spell.

His eyes widened briefly and then grew more curious.

By this point they made it to the castle yard and someone grabbed the reins of the horse. The man dismounted and helped her off.

"You must be more careful when on the street, milady. You never know if there would be another person to catch you when you fall," the smirk lifted the corner of his mouth and she blushed at the reproach. She wasn't clumsy, she wasn't! The suspicious silence continued and she realized that most people in the yard stopped moving and looked at the rider in palpable fear.

"I would not have needed saving, if you didn't ride like a devil in the crowded street," she snapped back. She definitely did not miss a gasp from the stable-hand, who cowered away behind the horse.

"Devil, you say? I was called worse. At least you thanked me first."

"But you haven't apologized for causing the ruckus in the first place," she wasn't sure what made her talk like that to him, but it was like she had no control over her tongue.

The silence became suspenseful and the man before her cocked the head to side and looked over her in clear amusement.

"Apology?" he smirked again and lowered his face to hers (he had to bend at his waist for his was quite tall), so close as to invade her space and she leaned back. "I never apologise. People don't live long enough for me to make apologies."

She couldn't tell if he was serious, but he had a sword on his back and looked like he knew how to use it, so she decided that maybe she should be wary of the man. He must have seen it, too, because he smirked again, straightened and then strode past her to the castle front doors.

Damn...

Once he disappeared from the view, it was like someone hit the start button and life began again.

Rose came up to her and pulled her to the entrance too.

"I worried, milady. This was Wolf. He is trouble and death. You lucky you live still."


	3. Chapter 3

Kim made it to her room, heart still hammering hard. Who was that man? The one everyone called Wolf? Why was everyone afraid of him? What was he doing here? She understood enough of the situation to know that he must have had some education for he spoke French and his clothes, though dark and utilitarian, were of fine quality. So, he was of some consequence, but then why were his manners so rough?

Rose just kept muttering under her breath and checked Kim for injuries, which was laughable. She was dying of curiosity, but with the language barrier, she only could ask Broderick about the new guest of the castle. Now that they were in the castle, Broderick kept busy with Lord Marshall and she saw him sporadically, when their paths crossed. As always he was polite and charming. She wouldn't know where to look for him at any rate, so she decided to put her curiosity aside and do something productive.

She walked to the library, which she learned was a privilege that the few educated and rich could claim. There were a lot of tomes in Latin, which she had the most rudimentary understanding of phrases and words. There were books in French - morality tales and some religious interpretation texts. And then there were hand written records in what would be the Old English. This was where Kim spent her time. She tried her hardest to understand this language and it helped to see words written in context to get the meaning.

She was thus occupied when the noise behind one of the book shelves. It was one of the few people she saw around Lord Marshall. As far as she could tell he was the advisor and this advisor was quietly conversing with a portly and pale young man. The guy was... homely. His eyes seemed watery and his hair - a greasy curly mess. Overall, he looked like a man who liked to eat and didn't like exercising. Before she could announce here presence, they spoke. Mercifully, the conversation was a mix of French and Old English, so Kim could follow somewhat.

"Are you sure, Tyron?" the young man asked.

"Quite, young master. The young lady is most likely one Isabelle Beulah Corneille.* The Wolf confirms that her traveling party was attacked."

She didn't miss how both winced and looked uncomfortable at the mention of the rider in black, the Wolf. It appeared that they feared him too. The young man mumbled, "How was it even possible that there are bandits in that area? Didn't Wolf get rid of them all?"

"Young master, you'd do well to learn to separate rumors from truth. And he did get rid of those who attacked. Or at least those who survived interrogation..."

This time both shuddered and Kim got an inkling that the Wolf... _killed_ the bandits. It was her turn to shudder.

"Then, she is my intended?"

"It was your father's design, yes."

"You are not sure it is so anymore?"

"Consider, she is an orphan now. Her uncle will take over as head of the family and her dowry and connections are only as good as the benevolence of the uncle."

"I have seen her around. She is pretty enough," the young man gave a disgusting leer.

"So are the scullery maids, young master. A fact that you are quite aware of," the advisor Tyrone said bluntly and the young man actually snickered rubbing the two fingers of his right hand.

Kim actually gagged at the implications: the young master must have been Lord Marshal's son, who was apparently using his position to impose himself on the servant girls of the castle. Isabelle Corneille was his bride to be, who was an orphan and therefore now had less value as a bride. Kim sighed - life was not easy for anyone here, but particularly for women and arranged marriages were part of life for most of them.

"Would that father change his mind on the alliance?"

"The Corneilles would expect a marriage. She traveled this far. Her trousseaux arrived as well," the advisor was logical.

"The father would not care about the upset feelings of a clan so far away," the young lord was arrogant to boot. "But, our family has entered the arrangement and, perhaps, we should honor it. The girl is fetching... Even if no alliance comes of it, it would be great to sample-"

"I would advise against it, master William Francis. However diminished her influence, she is noble-born. And she has at least one defender, skilled with the sword," the advisor's voice was sharp now as if to get through to the young lord.

"And who would that be?"

"Young Broderick Carter. He found her and brought her here. He already protected her and is, seemingly, taken with the girl."

It was then that it occurred to Kim that they were talking about her. She was assumed to be this Isabelle Corneille, a lost orphan and the intended of the young lord. She couldn't suppress the whole body shiver. The young lord was disgusting and lecherous and she'd rather be a nun than be paired with him. She should-

"Carter? What can he do? His father is sill alive and, though he's an heir, all decisions are made by his father. He can't do anything."

"The logical man would see things the way you do, but a smitten man is not logical."

"We shall see..."

The two men left the library and Kim slowly sat on the floor trying to process everything she'd just heard.

She was arranged to marry that gross Francis Marshal, whose name she just learned from eavesdropping. Aside from physical appearance, he was disgusting and arrogant and apparently didn't mind harassing and defiling servant girls. He wanted to 'sample' her... Kim was ready to barf. Let him try, she doubted he expected any fright from her. Of course he didn't: he was in the position of power over most women here and, even if she was assumed to be a lady, he probably didn't think she'd put up a physical fight.

But then she subsided, losing steam a little. In the end, if Lord Marshall decided she were to marry his son, what could she possibly do? She had little power here. Her immediate family was gone; the extended - on the continent. Her perceived status of a noble born lady was at once an advantage and a great misfortune. She was an orphan with a distant uncle on the continent, who may not care about her at all. Lord Marshall was the law here and what he said would carry the weight of the royal decree. She had only Broderick in her corner, but that young man's position was not as powerful and not a match to that of the sheriff of York.

And if he decided that she wasn't a proper match to his son, what then? What would happen then? She still would be trapped here, a pawn in the game of buying influences. Again, her orphan status would make a less desirable bride. Was she to stay here in this castle permanently, her status as a guest/prisoner suspicious to all? Would she be sent back to Isabelle's uncle?

There was so much going on, she got a headache thinking about all possible scenarios.

She put the hand-written records back and went back to her room, intent on resting and trying to come up with some strategy for herself.

* * *

That evening brought a surprise: she was asked to join Lord and his guests at supper. Rose, filled with the importance of the moment, took care to put Kim in the best dress and arranged her hair with two ribbons across the front and top of the head, twisting strands around them and arranging the ends into a bun at the back. The rest of the hair fell down the back. One thing was obvious, Kim would not be able to arrange her hair herself in such elaborate styles.

Kim had reservations about the supper. She knew what it meant: Lord Marshal would announce her identity and this would define the moment when everyone would know her relative status and position here. Until now she was merely a mystery guest of the Lord. Now she would be a potential daughter-in-law or... Kim drew a blank: she had no idea what she would be considered if Lord Marshal didn't force her to marry his son.

She followed Rose to the dining hall. Another cavernous room, where torches chased the shadows to the corners, making everything seem ominous and uncertain.

She entered and there was a sudden hush in the hall.

Everyone watched her come in. She walked to where Lord Marshall sat, his despicable son to his right, and curtsied to them, "Lord Marshal. Thank you for inviting me."

"Yes, milady Belle. Although, perhaps I should call Isabelle? It is your name after all."

So he _was_ going to announce her identity now.

"Isabelle, Sir?" she feigned confusion.

"Yes. I can now assure you that your name is Isabelle Corneille and you have indeed traveled here from the continent."

"Then, you have word of my family?"

"I am saddened to inform you, milady Isabelle, but your family and servants that traveled with you here, all have perished in an attack by highway bandits."

"Per- perished..." Kim struggled to convey sadness at first, but only had to remind her self what perilous position she was in and her face naturally paled and she even swayed on her feet.

Broderick, ever reliable, began rising in his seat, but it was someone else, who got to her first from behind and steadied her, holding her elbow and forearm in a firm grip. She turned to her left and it was him - the mystery man with a mask. The Wolf.

"I told you to be careful. Once again I am here to catch you," this was whispered low, so at most people heard a murmur. They looked at each other for a moment, until she heard the scraping of the chair on stone floor.

"William Jacob Bruer, you have joined us at last."

She looked back at Lord Marshal and saw the looks of fear and distrust in everyone faces. Broderick looked like he wanted to snatch her from where she stood.

The Wolf, Mr. Bruer, let go of her arm and gave a bow to the Lord, "I have, my lord. I believe you have informed young lady of our discoveries."

"Just about," the Lord avoided looking at Mr. Bruer's eyes and it was strange to see the man so unsure. He turned attention to her, "Milady Isabelle. As I was saying, your family and servants have perished in their journey. You were also believed to have died at the hands of bandits, but it seems that you were brought here, to my lands. It is a mystery to us, but we don't have any more answers. The culprits have not given up any clues about you. Rest assured, milady, they have paid for hurting you and your family."

She tried to process what they told her. They still believed her to be Isabelle Corneille despite the strangeness of her appearance in York. The real Isabelle was probably killed with her family in Devon... She shuddered again at the thought of her taking up place of an unfortunate girl, who was sold into an arranged marriage.

She prepared herself mentally for the next announcement; that she was intended for Master Francis.

She looked up to the lord's son and saw him leer: revulsion was overwhelming her and she paled even more from the disgust at such an open stare. She wanted to hide from it, but she also wanted to yell at him and maybe even flip him over. She _hated_ being treated like an object.

Something in her eyes must have been alarming enough, for Francis's leer became more confused and Lord Marshall's eyes narrowed at her a little.

"Bruer, take milady Isabelle to her seat."

Just like that the tension that was building in the hall broke. Kim didn't even realize that her stare down was so obvious or that the hall was silent all this time. She sighed a little and then turned to walk. Mr. Bruer extended his arm again and this time she did not miss that both Francis and Broderick made aborted movements as if to stop him. He only smirked back at them, defiant, and positively grabbed her wrist and walked on, towing her along.

His manners were truly abysmal and his grip unyielding.

In the end, she was seated next to him. People around them leaned away and in general behaved as if a true wolf was in their midst. They looked at him as if they weren't sure he was not going to grab food with hands and rip off a piece of meat with his own teeth. It was so obnoxious that Kim - forever on the side of the underdogs, even ones with bad manners - decided to make up for the way others treated Mr. Bruer. She didn't lean away from him and when their arms and hands were close enough to touch she kept steady instead of pulling away. She could feel Broderick's constant looks of worry on her and she even returned one of them with a brief smile, but avoided doing it often as it also meant looking in the direction of Francis Marshall. His stare was heavy and felt like a greasy cloak over her and she had no illusions about the fact that she somehow pissed him off with her defiant and disgusted look earlier. She wasn't sure if he now looked with lust or hatred.

She was prepared to look only at her food for the duration of the meal, but Lord Marshal had called for her attention now and then pointing at various foods offered, as if to see if she appreciated the plentiful display in front of her. So she was forced to look at him and Francis. The latter recovered and leered at her again. But then, quite inexplicably, Francis dropped his gaze and even Lord Marshall looked away. She was sure she hadn't done anything to make them do so.

She looked back and met the direct look from Mr. Bruer. He kept his gaze at the head of the table and if she thought Lord Marshall's eyes were piercing or Francis' stare was heavy, they were nothing to Mr. Bruer's oppressive and commanding energy. He looked like a predator seeking out the weakness in the prey. His face was impassive, made more stoic by the black mask, but his eyes burned with cold fire and she was no longer surprised that others feared or shied away from him. He truly had the eyes of the wolf.

Then those remarkable eyes shifted to her and she froze in the cross-hairs. Something imperceptible changed - he did not blink, smile, smirk, exhale or inhale - but somehow the overwhelming and overpowering force of his eyes softened a little as if the predator was no longer just seeking prey, but was curious and amused.

She swallowed, lips suddenly dry. That little movement by her broke the moment and he looked away first, and suddenly she could breathe.

What a dangerous man he was... She realized he hardly was an underdog and didn't need her making up for the impoliteness of others.

* * *

Jack Bruer arrived at the castle York late at night, having made the journey from Devon in record time. He and his men were used to the fast traveling and were content to sleep on the ground and eat simple foodstuff found in nearby villages. There was no need to stop at the inns, though he could have gotten any luxuries he desired. People in York, like people in Devon, simply gave him anything they thought he'd want. Of course, they were also afraid to look at him and hid themselves away upon seeing him.

His reputation preceded him everywhere in seemed. Sometimes being the enforcer for the family had its shortcomings.

He smiled sardonically. The scar that was the bane of his existence, was also a talisman of sorts now. He did nothing to earn it, but he certainly reaped the benefits, such as they were.

Men were afraid of him, women - terrified, children were simply hidden from him. It was considered particularly unlucky for a pregnant woman to cross his path. As if he were really a wolf and would eat the human flesh or his direct look would curse the child even in the womb.

His men, soldiers themselves, did not fear him in the same way of the illiterate crowds of commoners. Theirs was the wary respect for the warrior and a harsh task master. He had little need for obeisance, but he needed complete loyalty and he enforced it with the iron fist. For that he earned the deference to himself and his orders.

He would not admit it to others, but he wondered if his relationship with his men was the best he could hope for as far as human companionship went.

His own family... Their relationship was too complex to put in words, but love was certainly not one he would use. Father was forever trapped by his position to show any genuine emotion; mother was long gone; step-mother was driven to insanity; and his brother hated him, held him in contempt and wanted him gone.

Other nobles took cues from the way how was treated at home and all he saw was contempt or fear. His reputation made him unpopular with the crowds and no self-respecting family would consent to give their daughters to him as a wife.

Jack stopped worrying about how others saw him long time ago: his life was hard enough, survival being paramount since his childhood. He did not have the luxury to worry about his reputation. It kept him alive and he used it as a deterrent. Very few would challenge him; fewer still would try to sabotage him...

It was a great surprise to him then, when a girl, that he plucked from the street in the village in York, did not faint dead, or scream, or try and run away upon seeing him.

He could not explain why he grabbed her from the street. Maybe it was the rush of the fast ride or the desire to cause the commotion - and plucking the girl while riding was noteworthy at least - or maybe he didn't want to see her fall into the creek...

She was a slight girl with shining hair and shinier eyes that looked without fear. Certainly, she was shocked, but not afraid. Even if she didn't know who he was, he knew that his masked face was off-putting. Nobody wore masks unless they had something to hide. She should have thought it hideous that a strange man hiding his ugliness behind the mask dared to touch her...

And yet, she looked without fear and then _thanked_ him. It was his turn to be shocked and curious. She spoke French with an accent he couldn't place, but it was proper and her voice was melodic.

He wanted to hear more of it - and perhaps to see her react to him - so he talked about her falling and him saving her. He wasn't disappointed: her eyes flashed and the color rose in her cheeks and she chastised (!) him and demanded (!) an apology (!) from him.

This was far more interesting than anything he'd expected from a visit to York, so he smirked and invaded her space and practically warned her of his deadly ways. He saw her eyes up close and saw the battle in them: she wanted to chastise him more, but was a little wary of him now.

He smirked again, a real smile fighting its way onto his face.

This was very entertaining for sure. He wondered who she was and if he'd see her again.

Later, when he found out that she was the lost bride of Francis Marshal, he couldn't quite ignore the feeling of sadness: the girl was destined for a miserable marriage.

*Tyron is Sensei Ty. Francis is Frank, Kim's medieval name is a French word/last name for crow, which is close to her own last name of Crawford. In reality, Lord Marshal's son, William, married Alice de Bethune. I am changing a lot of stuff here, so just assume that everything in this story is fiction.

A/N: We're getting a glimpse of Jack and his mindset. His story will be explored more later.


	4. Chapter 4

Kim walked after breakfast trying to avoid libraries or any places where she might run into Francis. The man gave her creeps and she didn't trust herself not to flip him. She held onto the hope that Lord Marshal would think her unsuitable bride for his son and maybe send her back to the continent. At this point, traveling back to her assumed family would be preferable than the marriage here.

So she walked past the small courtyard only to find Broderick in one of the hallways. He clearly was waiting for her. The young man was agitated and paced a little only to still when she walked up to him.

"Milady Belle," he inclined his head and she returned the gesture. "I have waited for you."

"You found me, Sir."

"I wanted to ask you- No, it is not correct. I wanted to inform you, if you are not already aware." He paused and then said in a rush, "You are the intended bride of Francis Marshal. His lordship did not reveal it to you yet, but once your identity become known- How I feared that this might be the case..." he trailed off, his hand ruffling hair in agitation.

"But is it certain? I am quite the ways away from Devon, where Isabelle Corneille disappeared. Could this not be a case of mistaken identity? And if I am Isabelle Corneille, why haven't the bandits killed me like the rest of my party?"

"The Providence itself kept you safe, milady," Broderick looked like he was praying to god right this moment for her safety. She was uncomfortably aware that he developed feelings for her. It was flattering, but also made her anxious. She might be a lady of marriageable age now, but in her own time she was just a 16-year-old girl who didn't think farther than going on dates with cute boys. _Dating_ in this time meant either marriage or a ruined reputation.

"Yes, that must be it," she mumbled. "Unfortunately, it kept me safe to deliver straight into the hands of Francis Marshal. I wonder if Providence has a wicked sense of humor."

She could have sworn she heard something like a snort to her left and she peered at the arches that were evenly spaced in the hallway.

"Milady!" Broderick sounded scandalized. "You must not speak so freely. If anyone heard you..."

As expected, Broderick missed the sarcasm and humor and Kim sighed: sometimes she wondered if everyone was so- serious all the time in this place.

"I understand. Still, Lord Marshal hasn't announced that I am intended for the young master. Do you think he might not want to ally their family with me?" she still had hopes to avoid marrying the disgusting young lord. "What would happen to me if there is no marriage? Do you think I would go back to the continent?"

"I promise, milady, I shall do everything in my power to protect you. I-" there was a suspicious hitch in his voice and Kim started to worry that he might confess his feelings right this moment. Then she saw him inhale deeply and open his mouth.

She needed distraction. Like, right now.

"Who is Mr. William Jacob Bruer and why everyone is afraid of him?" she blurted the question that was on her mind for while. It seemed to work: Broderick no longer looked like he was going to spout poetry at her and his gaze turned troubled.

"I heard about your meeting with him. Milady, I implore you to be careful. Jack Bruer is not to be trifled with."

"Yes, yes... He's trouble and death. He's a wolf... And why is that anyway?" she said quickly to get to the point. "It seems to me that all these are rumors and conjectures. I have yet to hear anything concrete that would warrant such precautions. He has helped me on the street, when I almost fell, and he helped again last night at the supper. I would rather reserve my judgement until he does something to justify all the rumors."

Broderick's face was a mixture of irritation and condescension, "Milady, you are not in possession of your memories and you have relied on my word before. You should do so now: Jack Bruer is not a suitable company for young ladies. He knows only life of a soldier and has not been known to treat anyone with any kind of manners."

"He seemed polite enough yesterday."

"Milady," Broderick's voice rose in tenor. "Do you know why it was him, and not Baron Bruer's heir and son that came here with reports about your party? I shan't go into details as such matters are not appropriate for a lady, but the Bruer family has one heir and one enforcer, who does all the dirty work. He is the might of that clan, their sword and shield. And that is all he's ever going to be. People call him Wolf, because it is rumored that he once killed a whole pack of them in Devon. The say that other wolves won't touch him now, but he is nothing but a dog. Guard dog. Attack dog. Whatever his father needs him to be. Whatever his brother would need him to be. He was tasked to find answers as to what happened to you and your family and he did that. I'm certain the Devon forest has one less band of hoodlums to terrorize people. You understand my meaning?"

Kim reeled back a little at the dismissive and almost hateful tone of the otherwise gentle man. He was saying that Mr. Bruer - Jack - was a killer for his family; that he killed the men who attacked Isabelle Corneille's family. This was probably the first time she truly realized just how violent were the times she ended up in. People died all the time: from strife, bandits, harsh punishments, diseases... Everyone in this time had to be ready to defend themselves or to attack. She felt faint, but something stuck out to her in Broderick's speech.

"Sir Carter, are you not yourself a leader of men, who are armed? Were you not yourself ready and capable of defending your lands or our traveling party? If we were attacked by bandits in the woods on the way here, wouldn't you have used the sword on your belt?"

He looked away at first, but then nodded sharply, "Yes, I would have because-"

"Then what difference is between you and Mr. Bruer? The only way you differ is that you are an heir to your father and he isn't."

"You cannot possible compare me and that- that savage!"

"His manner is brusque, I shall concede. But he helped me just as you have helped me. I see no meaningful difference now."

He looked liked he wanted to argue again, but a servant found him with a message and Broderick had bowed to her - the stiffest and most perfunctory of bows - and left. Kim knew he was upset with her now and she wondered if it was wise to challenge her only friend in this place. But the innate sense of justice told her that she was right to defend Mr. Bruer. He had done nothing terrible to her yet.

* * *

Jack - for it was him hiding in the hallway - listened to the most enlightening conversation between that ponce Carter and Lady Isabelle Corneille. He marveled at the most unexpected defense of his name.

He knew that the young woman lost her memories and it seemed that some of her understanding was different now. At least that what both Lord Marshal alluded to yesterday and what he surmised from Carter's words. But he didn't know her before now and to him she appeared as a strong and impertinent girl, who spoke freely just now and who absolutely did not fear him. He teased her to get a rise out of her, but her eyes flashed and color rose in her cheeks and she chastised him. It was so different and... human. The two times they have talked he felt like a human being, not the animal or a monster people treated him as.

It probably was the reason for his own stare down with the Marshal men. Lord Marshal was a wily man intent on expanding his own influence, but his son was a bitter disappointment to the man. Francis was lazy, indolent, lecherous wastrel and he truly pitied Lady Isabelle. She was intended for Francis and between the pitiful, but cruel, husband and scheming father-in-law, she would lead a sad life. He'd hate to see her spirit broken. When he caught Francis oily looks that were indecent in a mixed company, he didn't even realize that his own eyes hardened as he looked over her head at the young lord. He knew that few could handle looking him directly in the eye: once again his reputation, the mask, his impassive glare worked in his favor.

Francis looked away.

And then the girl turned to look at Jack. Her eyes held no fear. Instead her look was penetrating, like she wanted to learn his secrets or maybe look behind the mask. His own curiosity and a sense of protectiveness towards her were unexpected and he wondered what was happening to him: she was not his to protect.

He surmised that it was because of her lack of fear when dealing with him. It was so singular, he was bound to notice her above others.

He was going to savor those moments until she learned to fear him like everybody else.

That was all...

And yet... Right now, when Carter told her the hateful words of condemnation of him and his character, she surprised him again. She defended him, calling out Carter for the harsh words and turning them on the man himself.

'I see no meaningful difference...' He relished the stupefied expression on Carter's face. That ought to hurt the man. Especially coming from a woman Carter so obviously favored.

That alone was worth it to come and talk to her again.

He followed her out of the castle gates. Once again the lady ventured to the stalls at the village market. She truly was intrepid, wasn't she? Hasn't she realized that with no language skills other than French, not family to speak of, and no memory she was defenseless? And what were her future husband and father-in-law thinking allowing her to go alone? What was that idiot Carter doing leaving her without his protection?

He would have to make sure she got back safe.

* * *

After visiting the first merchant stall, Kim realized she still had no idea how the currency system worked here. It sure was a good thing that her new lifestyle included being a lady with no care for the mundane things in life, such as food and clothing. She would obviously be doing a _terrible_ job of it on her own.

"What are you doing here alone, milady?"

Kim actually felt her heart jolt. Oh man, it was Jack Bruer. At least it wasn't Francis Marshal, who was the very last person she wanted to see at any given point in time, ever.

Remembering all the fear-mongering by Broderick, she expected her animal instinct at this point to indicate that she should run away, but instead her fool mouth opened up and told him to stay out of her business.

Too late she wondered if he'd be mad, but his eyes were amused again.

"I asked what you were doing," Jack Bruer grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her closer to him. Again, with hand grabbing!

"I'm taking a stroll," she said, on the off-chance that the Wolf would be satisfied with a vague answer. He stared. "I shall be fine."

"You mean like the last time?" Jack Bruer gave her a look that clearly demonstrated that he in no way, shape, or form thought that she was doing fine. For a guy who covered up half his face with a mask, he was surprisingly good at showing some seriously judgmental disapproval.

She tried to take her wrist back. He remained unmoved by her efforts. Politeness was overrated, Kim mused, she had to be direct.

"Will you let go already?" she asked pointedly.

"Why are you _strolling_ alone? Where is your servant? You shouldn't be _strolling_ alone. Ever."

Kim, fed up with the condescension, gave him the meanest look she could, "I don't need you to tell me what to do."

 _"Strolling_ in a foreign land, without memories, alone... Why are you being so difficult?" he asked, amused.

There are a lot of things she wanted to say at this moment to all men, who thought they knew better than her, but she took the high road instead and feigned to the right in an attempt to dislodge his hold. He moved with her smoothly, and somehow ended up holding her by the waist.

He gave her another expectant look, the smirk firmly on his face.

Oh god! Why was this happening to her? First Broderick, now him? "Fine. If you _must_ know, I'm trying to learn how the currency works. Here, in this country."

Now Jack Bruer looked confused. It wasn't often that his face showed anything other than distant amusement or bloody murder, so this expression really ought to be preserved for posterity. It was all about small victories in this time period, really.

"You know, if I am to live here," she elaborated slowly.

"Without skills in the local tongue, milady? Did you often procure things with _currency_ at your homeland? Did your family let you go without servants?" he stared at her like he was trying to discern what exactly was her plan here. "What do you even need to learn it for? Isn't the household of the Lord Marshal taking care of you?"

"Yes, but that's not the point. I don't need anyone to take care of me," at this she gave Jack Bruer's hand on her wrist a pointed look. _So much for that high road._

"Where were you planning to go, Lady Isabelle?" he shrugged. The movement jostled her closer to him, "I shall take you there."

"I was just going to take a look around to see what people pay for what. I don't need you to take me anywhere. Totally fine on my own," she started pushing him with the one free hand she has left, "Completely fine. Will be perfectly all right. Can do this _by myself._ "

She was unsuccessful.

Jack Bruer came with her.

Which was a giant mistake.

She still remembered vividly the moment when she first met him - how he had gone through the crowded marketplace at a full gallop, looking oh-so dangerous. Ignoring the part that had come afterwards, she also remembered how everyone had been screaming in fear and over-dramatically throwing themselves down on the ground.

Anyways. Turned out that everybody else at the market _also_ remembered the day when they first met Jack Bruer.

People saw them walking by and would look like the gates of Hell themselves opened up.

Needless to say, Kim learned nothing of the currency system in medieval England.

* * *

The next week was the strangest time of her life, and given the fact that she actually traveled in time, it was saying a lot.

She had ran into Francis an awful lot. Thankfully, he was always accompanied by Tyrone, the advisor, so she didn't need to bust any of her karate moves. Francis talked to her about his family's importance and the favors of kings they enjoyed. She figured he was doing the classic peacock thing and was showing off. It was kind of awesome that she could feign memory loss and refuse to be impressed by anything.

She ran into Broderick a lot too. He seemed to have recovered his gallant attitude and was showering her with compliments and gave her meaningful glances. She was expecting a love note or a sonnet any moment now. She was running out of random topics to ask him about to stop the impending confession.

She also took several _strolls_ with Jack, who'd appear out of nowhere like ninja and stay close whenever she ventured out.

She dined at the main hall with all the inhabitants of the castle and was grilled by Lord Marshal on great many things, which she understood to be of importance to the wife of a lord. She was observant enough to understand that being the lady of the castle involved more than just long dresses and fancy updos. Forget about sewing and embroidery, which she really didn't know anyway. Lord Marshal's wife - a pale and timid woman rarely heard - made sure to sit Kim down for just that task. It was clear she had low opinion of Kim's skills, judging by the pursed lips.

The real function of the lady was much more serious. The castle was like a large organization and while the lord was a CEO and a Chairman of Board of Directors, his wife was in charge of the actual maintenance and upkeep of the building and its people; she was the HR department and the COO. Which was what she told the Lord and all present at the supper. Of course, she used some archaic substitutes - saying command for manage and housekeeping for maintenance - but they got the gist. And apparently, her answer was gold. Lord Marshal smiled like he heard a good news, Francis looked bored, Tyrone's eyes narrowed at her in contemplation, Broderick looked proud, and Jack...

Jack's face was impassive as always, but his expressive eyes conveyed a certain respect that she felt she didn't deserve. Didn't he see how abysmal she was at figuring out the currency?

* * *

This whole week Jack kept waiting for Lady Isabelle to learn to fear him. And yet it didn't happen. Their outing to the market place was remarkable: he discovered that she not only wasn't afraid of him, but apparently could easily lose her polished way of speaking when riled up. And it was easy to rile her up. All he had to do was invade her space and act as her sentinel. Somehow, this young woman thought she capable of defending herself.

He marveled at her bravery, but wouldn't leave such things to chance. It was a mystery as to why she was left alive. If the goal was just a robbery, then she would be dead. But she was left alive and brought here, to York. Lord Marshal - and Jack agreed - suspected that it was an attempt to influence him through the young woman. Obviously, something went wrong and Lady Isabelle managed to escape. It was one of the reasons Lord Marshal delayed announcing the marriage. That, and because unclear if the lady's memory loss affected her ability to become a good wife to a lord.

While Lord Marshal tested Lady Isabelle, Jack worried that her captors were out there and she was in danger.

So, Jack simply made sure she was watched at all times: she defended him and he would do the same.

What started out as need to protect her from unknown assailant, grew into the need to protect her from Francis. Knowing the young lord, Jack didn't trust him not to try and impose himself on the girl before marriage. While he couldn't dedicate himself to watching after her all the time, he still could ensure her relative safety.

He smirked remembering his _arrangement._ It was a good thing his reputation was what it was. Although, advisor Tyrone might have had other thoughts on that topic.

* * *

Tyrone was slowly walking up to his quarters at the to of the tower. His mood was good, until he walked into his rooms and saw the Wolf lounging by the desk and looking through a manuscript. Tyrone's heart jumped at seeing the precious scroll in the hands of the known savage. But politeness dictated that he greeted his guest, savage or not.

"Sir Bruer, to what I owe-"

He choked on the rest of his words, as the Wolf fluidly rose from the chair, reached Tyrone, and grabbed his throat in a hard grasp.

"No need for all that ceremony, Tyrone. Keep your charge on the leash," the words were just as hard as the grip on him.

"What- do- you- mean?"

"I don't want to hear that he tried to _sample_ anything from anyone while I am in the castle," the Wolf's eyes bore into Tyrone's and his voice rattled in the bones.

"Why- such- care?" Tyrone figured it had something to do with the young lord's intended. Her interactions with the Wolf were noticed by all: the girl had no fear or maybe she lost her mind when she lost her memories.

"Harm came to her on my lands," was his simple answer. Then his glare grew even colder if possible and his grip tightened, "So, are we in agreement?"

Of course they were. Tyrone preferred to be alive.

So we made sure never to leave Francis alone with Lady Isabelle.

* * *

So the week went like this. Lady Isabelle _strolling_ here and there, without a care in the world, only to find him as a companion whenever she tried to walk too far from the compound. If she was on the castle grounds, she was often in the company of either Francis (plus Tyrone) or Broderick.

The two young man were _courting_ Lady Isabelle. Both felt like they had good chances and yet neither idiot thought of providing basic protection to the restless and fearless girl.

He was mad at them, but also got madder thinking of either of them having those walks with her. It was confusing: she was not meant for him and after her marriage it would be her husband's duty to protect her. Only he didn't think anyone would protect her better than him.

A/N: I hope this came across as a little humorous. I planned this to be adventure/humor/romance story.


	5. Chapter 5

It has been close to six weeks of Kim's unexpected travel in time. She was getting used to a slower pace of life, lack of modern conveniences and entertainment, and even her own uncertain position at the moment. Lord Marshal held off announcing her betrothal to his son and she was feeling the dubiousness of her position very keenly. For one, Francis acted more and more forward with her, routinely mentioning her 'allure' in the most obvious of terms. Broderick Carter was at once gallant and very careful not to be caught by the Marshal men. She concluded that though he was quite interested, he wasn't exactly in the position to chose his own bride. Most likely his parents already arranged a bride for him and even if they didn't, could he really go against Lord Marshal.

It was Jack Bruer, her newest friend in this time period, who enlightened her about the state of things.

They took another walk outside the gates of the castle, walking along the creek that took them to a beautiful clearing where the creek spilled into a quiet pond with flowering bushes leaning low into the water.

"Have you succeeded in learning the workings of the local currency?" his voice was light, but she could hear the smile and, predictably, she had risen to a bait.

"Not with you as my companion, I didn't. Merchants and villagers run away or hide themselves, and last time I was interested in the price of something, you just threw the ribbon on the counter and left."

"Did you not receive it?" he looked puzzled.

"I did. The ribbon was delivered to my chambers. Although, I do not recall any prices quoted or coins exchanged." There weren't. The whole experience was disorienting. The merchant was bowing so low and mumbling something about good fortune (she was slowly learning the Old English), but there was definitely no money exchanged. A thought occurred to her suddenly, "You didn't just take it from the merchant? That would be so... unfair." It was possible, given the universal fear of the Wolf...

"Milady Isabelle," there was mild, amused reproach in his voice. "I always settle my bills."

"Then, I thank you for the gift. Although, you shouldn't have."

"It was my pleasure. It is too small to be considered a wedding gift. Consider it a 'thank you' for your vigorous defense of my character to Broderick Carter."

She startled a little, "You heard?"

He nodded with that insufferable smirk that made her blush. "Yes, it was- entertaining."

"If you say so," she said looking away. "I don't have a lot of friends in this place: you and Broderick and Rose are the only ones."

He came to sudden halt and she looked up at him. His gaze was suddenly no longer amused, but instead was keen and searching.

"Friend, milady? Am I your friend?" his voice was sharp too and she reeled back a little.

What was his issue with that? Did he object to being lumped into the same group as Broderick and a maid? It was obvious he and Broderick didn't get along, and Rose was a commoner...

"Yes, unless you object?"

His gaze has trapped her where she stood. It was heavy with too many emotions: disbelief, gratitude, wariness, warmth... "I don't object..."

"Good, I'd hate for my friends to not get along."

And just like that his face was inscrutable again, "Carter doesn't want to be your friend. He is _courting_ you."

The frown was both seen and heard.

"But why does he? Am I not intended for Francis Marshal? Why does Broderick court me?"

He sneered a little, "Until your betrothal is announced, Carter is free to court you. Lord Marshal is negotiating with your uncle, now that your father is gone. The letter was sent to the continent and the response would decide your fate. But I wouldn't get your hopes up, milady. Carter is as free in his choice of bride as you are in your choice of a husband."

She knew he didn't mean to sound cruel. It was the reality of this time period, and yet she was hurt by the tone: it seemed callous. Kim wasn't proud of the next words that fell from her mouth.

"And what about you? Are you free to marry anyone you want?"

His eyes widened in surprise and then turned cold, "We, none of us, are free to marry as our hearts desire. If my father has any use of me to arrange an alliance, then so be it. I have long ago left childish notions of marriage out of affection. No one would feel affection for this," he made a jerky move to point at his mask. "All I can hope for is polite respect. That should suffice."

He turned abruptly as if to leave, but stopped and almost barked, "It is time for you to go back to castle. I'm sure you unannounced intended and the erstwhile swain would be waiting for you."

So, they went back in silence, him walking just one step ahead and his back radiating coldness and loneliness.

* * *

Whether her assumed uncle responded or not, Lord Marshal continued to invite her to dine at the main hall. It was as if he was hedging his bets and kept her tethered to the unspoken promise between the families. He also kept testing her suitability.

The next test came in the form of entertainment. Apparently, it was expected that women be able to entertain with some fine arts. Kim played piano and sang, but at the court there was no piano. There was a harp and a lute. At least the lute was ferreted and was similar to the guitar. Kim knew a little about playing it and, after confessing that she could sing, she was asked to sing for the guests. The whole week felt like being a brood mare on display for potential buyers and Kim viciously hated it.

She scrambled to find a pleasant enough song that was old-ish and not difficult to play by ear. She remembered the old movie about naval officers and friends in 18th century France. There was a ballad there about love and it was simple enough and beautiful that she could probably make it justice. It helped that it was from eight centuries in the future, so none of the present company would catch it if she fudged the notes.

 _Your life hangs by a thread_

 _Your enemies are surging_

 _Thank God, there friends, true friends_

 _That shield you when you're hurting_

 _When your friend is bleeding_

 _A la guerre comme a la guerre_

 _Be next to him till the end, till the end_

 _A la guerre comme a la guerre_

She played the song, smoothing out the shaky melody on the unfamiliar instrument with her voice. She wasn't sure of the effect, but people looked on in attention and at least were polite enough not to talk over her performance.

She ventured a glance at the crowd, seeing varying reactions.

Lady Marshal was unreadable: perhaps she didn't expect anything from Kim, but Kim figured her opinion hardly mattered. Just like hers wouldn't matter if she married into this family.

Francis had predictably a pleased expression: her singing skills were probably something more for him to brag about. Lord Marshal was equally pleased.

Broderick had an open look of admiration and it flattered Kim.

And then she saw Jack...

* * *

Jack wasn't sure why Lady Isabelle's question about marriage unsettled him.

No, he knew why.

She shocked him when she said they were friends. Of course, she also said that Carter was her friend, but he almost didn't care. Jack did not have friends. Never had. Never imagined he would. Her open acceptance was dizzying. Why was she so puzzling? She _still_ wasn't afraid of him. She didn't mind his constant company. They talked a lot about everything that was of interest to her, of which there was a lot. She teased him about his taciturn nature and he smiled more than he had before. Then she told him that they were friends and he was stupefied.

Before he could even remind her of his own reputation, he blurted that Broderick Carter didn't want to be her friend. Carter wanted her. Just her. It was obvious to all. Carter should have been more careful that he gave rise to expectations. Lady Isabelle's position was precarious enough without some smitten idiot making it harder for her. He couldn't blame her for encouraging the idiot: first, she had lost some of her understanding with her memories (she did, after all, think him a friend); second, with Francis as a potential husband, she might have leaned towards Carter for an escape; third, and Jack didn't even want to admit it to himself, but Carter was an epitome of the gallant knight - any young lady would swoon at that.

No, Jack, didn't blame Lady Isabelle... Although, he couldn't stop himself from reminding her that her hopes as far as Carter went, were unfounded. Carter was not at liberty to marry as he wished. He had to make it clear to her. As a friend.

And he didn't even get too mad when she asked him about his marriage chances. It was simply the fact that it made a stark comparison between Carter - and even Francis - as potential husbands and himself. He wasn't anyone's gallant knight, or an influential heir. He couldn't expect any affection or even respect.

Friendship with Lady Isabelle was all he could hope for as far as fair sex went.

That night's dinner started somber for him. Lady Isabelle avoided looking at anyone in particular, clearly either tired or still upset. Lord Marshal, if he noticed her mood, didn't care and she was asked to entertain the guests with some music.

Lady Isabelle's clear voice, soft and deep, started like the tinkling brook and swell at the high points like a tide that crashes onto the shore, only to retreat back to the clearest of notes. She was like a true maestro and controlled her voice innately, commanding it to rise and fall along the melody. Each verse gained more confidence and depth, her voice stronger and more lyrical; the nerves gone and only emotion remained.

And she conveyed emotions so well. The words of the simple song, the longing in them, the sadness of the moment described when the friends were dying...

He was mesmerized… Stupefied… Taken prisoner…

He felt like she was singing only for him - her friend. She was alone here in this place. She might not have been bleeding, but, oh, she could be so easily hurt. Her, with her childlike sense of justice and fairness; her, who accepted him for his actions and words, not the rumors and opinions of others; her, who without her memories and language skills, was carving a life for herself here; her, who was alone...

Brave, beautiful girl...

He viciously envied Francis Marshal and Broderick Carter at this moment.

She was a gem, an angel...

And so wasted on Francis...

She sang and looked directly at him as if to draw strength from his presence and that moment he understood those knight who pledge their lives and adventures to a beautiful dame, even if she was never theirs. He wanted to protect her above others. He wanted her to be happy and safe. She deserved that and so much more. She might not care for it, but his strength, such as it was, she could command. She was his friend. The only one in this world.

* * *

In retrospect, Kim thought her month spent in the York castle was too calm. Sure, there was the impending marriage to a gross guy, but she somehow didn't think it woudl materialize. Maybe it was her naive optimism, but she hoped that everything would work out. In the meantime, she made friends and was relatively safe behind the walls of the castle.

It came down very quickly. One morning she was greeted by an overly excited Rose. Now more familiar with the local dialect, and because Rose's own command of French improved, Kim gathered that an important guest has arrived. He was named Cajus Bruer, the older brother to Jack. Rose didn't know the reason for his arrival, but she confirmed that the man was fair and tall, much like his dark brother.

Kim was curious to see this man, who was the heir to the Bruer family. Her few inquiries into Jack's family were cut short by his very brusque, even for him, answers. In a nutshell, there were serious issues between half-brothers. She wasn't sure if Jack's mother was a second wife, but he spoke of her as if she was dead. Since he was tight-lipped and she didn't think it proper to ask Broderick about it, she was left with nothing, but conjectures.

That afternoon she was taking walk along the breezeway when she spotted Francis and a young man. He was taller than Francis, blond, with broad shoulders. She suspected this was Cajus Bruer and she tried to conceal herself among the arches. The two men walked slowly towards her, heads bent low and talking quietly. She pressed herself into the column, cursing the long skirts of the dress.

"...and you are sure, Cai?" Francis's words came in.

"It is all up to your father now. Her uncle is clear they don't want her back and won't give more as a dowry."

"In so many words?"

"Francis, read between the pages! To quote, Chevalier Corneille states that 'Isabelle, as was the wish of her late father, is now where she ought to be. I can only carry out my brother's wishes in seeing her settled in Albion. She made the journey with all that her family could give her and we pray that our beloved Isabelle finds happiness in the new family.'" Cai spoke in a voice tinged with a mocking accent. "Translation: we don't want her back, she's all yours now and we are not giving her anymore than she travelled with."

"And what she travelled with-" Francis mumbled.

"My bastard of a brother recovered much of what was looted," Cai confirmed with an audible sneer at the word 'brother.' "That vicious savage has his uses. But, Francis, you are an heir to Lord Marshal. Your father expanded his land holdings and is favored by King. You can get a better suited bride, you know."

"She's fetching, Cai. Quite so. Carter is smitten and your brother favors her too."

"The Wolf? What are you saying? Does he howl at her like the animal he is?" Cai sounded disturbingly like a 21-st century bully. "Does he salivate like a dog in heat? Poor girl, she must be at her wit's end to escape his attentions."

"Well, I should say, that Lady Isabelle tolerates his company quite well. And he doesn't favor her like Carter does. Rather that he talks to her at times and she doesn't faint."

"Are you sure she is of right mind?"

"She did lose her memories and it seems that she lost a lot skills too..."

"Why would you want a defective bride with no family to speak of? No matter how fetching."

"I didn't say I want to marry her. Only to pluck the flower."

At this point the two young men laughed in the most disturbing manner and Kim was glad that the column was there to support her.

Her worst nightmare was coming true: Lord Marshal wouldn't want her as a bride for his son; her assumed uncle didn't want her back in France; Francis wanted to 'sample' her anyway...

What could she do now?

Would Lord Marshal decide she should marry someone else? Someone like Broderick? That was seemingly the best option, unless she tried to run away and leave independently. As soon as she thought that, she smiled bitterly at herself. She wouldn't survive alone. She was a woman with no life skills in this time period. She may have some sort of dowry, but she doubted she could claim it away from the Marshals. She didn't even speak the language all that well.

She knew very few people and of those she could only claim three as friends.

Broderick... The man, who wanted to be more than friends. The man, who she didn't see like that. The man, who was not free to choose as he wished, even if it was the only option. Would his father agree to such a bride? What was she thinking? Did she really think of marrying Broderick as an option? Why wasn't there some cosmic event happening right now that would transport her back to her time? This life, here, was getting way too real way too fast for her.

* * *

Cai was curious to see this Lady Isabelle Corneille. By all accounts, she must be a singular woman. Details of her appearance in York were sketchy, but if she were held captive and escaped, then she had more strength that average. She managed to survive the abduction and found her way to York. And apparently charmed Broderick Carter on spot. Even Lord Marshal mentioned something about her astute observations about life of the lord and the lady. Obviously, the fact that she lost her memories was unfortunate. As was the loss of her family's connections. Since her uncle all but cut her off the family tree, her value diminished. But the most unfortunate fact was her reactions to his bastard brother. He didn't doubt for a second that the cursed Wolf favored her. He scared most people just on reputation alone. Of course, if he met someone who didn't cower away from him, the Wolf was bound to notice them. And if this someone was a comely woman, as this Lady Isabelle is rumored to be, then it only made sense that he would hold a tender spot for her.

It has been a while since the mad dog, known as his brother, had any tender spots.

Not since he was left alone for three nights at age of nine to fend off the wolf pack in the Devon forest. All were expecting to find him dead. Even Hrodolf, the leader of their father's men and the one in charge of his and the bastard's training. Hrodolf wasn't told that Jack was left behind. The man had soldier's morals and rushed to the rescue of the unwanted pest.

Only to find the bastard alive. Bleeding from multiple deep scratches from claws and his arm bitten almost through and bone sticking out, but alive. And around him were bodies of several wolves. No own knew how he did it and he wasn't talking. But when he recovered from his injuries, the bastard was vicious enough to beat down anyone who tried to raise their hand at him. People began to fear him then. They started calling him Wolf. The mask that he wore to hide the ugly scar used to be something people made fun of, yelling vicious things to him. But since the wolves massacre, people didn't dare to look at him directly in the eyes or mention his mask.

All this made Cai angry. The bastard was just that - a bastard, living out of charity of his father. He was destined to live a miserable live, marked by misfortune of a scar, given to him by his own mother. Instead, the small boy grew into a strong man, skilled in battle and tasked with protecting the clan. And he's proven himself again and again. Those battle skills made Devon one of the safest places to be. Everyone knew what happened if the Wolf decided to dole out justice.

Most people feared him.

Some hated him.

Few tolerated him.

And the Wolf didn't care about most of it. It was as if he lost all human needs since the wolf massacre. He was alone and didn't mind it.

But maybe he cared about it now.

For there was a brave soul that didn't fear him, didn't hate him, and more than tolerated him.

Cai was curious indeed about Lady Isabelle.

A/N: Hrodolf is the old Saxon version of Rudolph or Rudy, Jack's sensei. Cajus or Cai (Welsh and Irish name) is of course Kai Brewer, Jack's cousin, whom I made a half-brother.


	6. Chapter 6

Jack should have known that his continued presence in York would raise questions. Ostensibly, he was here to be present for Francis Marshal's wedding. In reality, he never bothered with such diplomatic notions: his father and half-brother were the official faces of the clan. He was here because he couldn't quite leave yet. His unexpected friendship with Lady Isabelle had made him stay. He didn't know what he was waiting for, but he made himself a promise to see to her safety and until she had a husband or a family to protect her, he'd be her shield.

Then his brother arrived and Jack steeled himself: Cai was known for his underhanded and clever tactics. For all that he was a cruel and miserable man, he was far from an idiot like Francis. Cai was wily and always thought of his own gain. Unfortunately, Cai's definition of gain included hurting Jack. In fact, Cai believed that Jack's demise would be a direct benefit to himself. Despite his status as the heir, Cai felt competition from the presence of another son.

And he wasn't the only one: his mother's family all supported Cai in his desire to see Jack gone. Only his father's favor and Jack's own stubbornness allowed him to survive in the snake pit known as the Devon castle. There were a few memorable attempts on his life: some subtle, some - not so much. The biggest was when he was left behind after the hunt for three days alone to die. Another not so veiled attempt came in the form of poisoned milk. Since then Jack never went anywhere without at least several blades hidden on his body and had meticulously built up his resistance to most poisons.

Cai could do little to Jack...

* * *

He was wrong.

It turned out, Cai could do a lot to Jack, as he found out that afternoon.

It was inevitable that they'd meet, so Jack wasn't surprised when he found his brother by the courtyard, where Jack met with is men. Several weeks in the castle was enough to give them rest, but it was his rule to keep them in good form, so he was there for exercises. They used wooden sticks to imitate the swords and worked through mock fights. Cai strolled into the yard, his own wooden weapon ready.

"Ah, trying to keep them from going soft?"

"As you can see."

Cai merged into the exercise and Jack motioned to one of his better men to take a spot opposite his brother.

"How have you been? Enjoying hospitality of Lord Marshal?" clearly Cai didn't need any answers. "I wondered what kept you here so long... I suppose York is different from Devon. It must be the air here. Less humid. Or do the forests here have more of the prey you like, my brother?"

"My stay was enjoyable. It would be even better now that you join me here," Jack long ago figured out that acting as if he liked Cai, feigning familial accord, irritated his half-brother more than any barbs would.

Cai was always vicious, but often his own slyness got in the way of a good fight: he always overthought his moves, spending too much time trying to figure out the opponents weak spots. Jack could always overwhelm him with the just sheer force of his own sword fighting. Soon, the two of them were engaged in a all ought fight, wooden weapons clashing and faces marred with sneers and scowls. If this were a real fight with real swords there would have been blood drawn already.

It was Cai, who finally stumbled and left himself open for Jack to jab him in the chest. They were both breathing hard and their eyes flashed with in unadulterated hate. Jack stepped back and lowered his mock weapon.

"I'm glad to see you haven't stopped your training, busy as you are with politics and diplomacy."

"Yes, some of us can do more than just be a weapon."

"Diplomacy without the might of the sword is akin to dancing through the rain trying to avoid getting wet: doomed to fail and looks pathetic."

They glared at each other again, but it was Jack, who grinned at Cai.

"Come, brother, let us take out repast."

They went to rinse off their sweat and Cai took off his shirt to pour water fro, onto himself. Most men were doing so, as the day was hot and the vigorous exercise only made it worse.

A loud squeak was heard from behind the upturned cart, and Jack looked curiously to see Rose - Lady Isabelle's maid - hiding there.

"What are you doing here?" Cai yelled a the girl and dragged her out. "Are you spying on us? Who are you?"

He was visibly angry and was twisting her arm to make her look at him.

"I- I was just grabbing chamomile from the still room, Sir," the girl wailed. "I didn't know you were using the yard."

She did have a bunch of dried stems in her hand and Jack was about to come to here rescue when another voice broke in.

"Let her go!"

Lady Isabelle, furious and frowning, made quick strides towards them. Cai spun around at the sudden intrusion and it was like time slowed down for Jack.

Cai dropped the girl's hand and pushed her hard onto ground...

Lady Isabelle made two steps forward...

Cai grabbed a wooden weapon and lifted it high...

Lady Isabelle's eyes followed Rose's fall to the ground...

Cai swung the weapon...

Lady Isabelle's eyes lifted just in time to see the movement...

Jack was already moving to throw himself before Lady Isabelle... and then he stopped...

Lady Isabelle hiked the skirt of her long dress and made an interesting move, which saw her body bend to the side and backwards, her leg swinging in a short arch. The leg hit the wooden sword, kicking it out of Cai's grasp. It dropped back to the ground just as Lady Isabelle took a crouched stance in front of Cai, her arms lifted in front of her chest and hands fisted tight.

"I told you to let her go, not shove her to the ground," she sounded so angry right now.

Cai, who was obviously momentarily stunned, swallowed hard and then his eyes narrowed in anger. Jack saw him ball his hand, but it never went anywhere.

Jack held it in his own grasp, squeezing hard and whispering harshly in his native tongue, "Touch her and I shall personally see that you can't sit, let alone walk, for weeks."

Cai fought against his hold, but it was useless. "Let me go, bastard. She will pay for this," he hissed.

"Bother, remember your manners. We are guests here and she is a lady."

"No lady worth the name would come here, where there undressed men around. Or is she _that_ kind of lady?"

Cai's sneer turned into sardonic smile as he glared at Lady Isabelle. His look was as disgusting as Francis'. It was as if Cai was undressing Lady Isabelle, who went on to help Rose to her feet.

Jack squeezed Cai's wrist harder, knowing that it must have hurt a lot at this point.

"She is the kind of lady that would protect her maid. I don't think anyone would spare a piss if you were on fire."

Some sort of understanding dawned on Cai, "Oh, is it her? The girl abducted in Devon only to appear in York? You must introduce me to her."

They both looked at Lady Isabelle, who gave Cai one baleful look and started walking away.

"Let's delay it as long as possible. I don't want her to know we're related."

"You wound me, Jack. I can be charming."

"Wait till Lord Marshal introduces you."

"Or Francis would do it for me. He is such a friend. And a lucky man, it seems. Such a feisty future bride. I wonder what she'd be like-"

"One more word and I'll rip your tongue out."

"How violent... Of course, what did I expect from a beast... This visit is getting more and more interesting. I can't wait to meet her properly. I truly envy our friend Francis..."

Jack let go of Cai, now that Lady Isabelle was out of sight, "Behave. Or I shall see to teaching you manners."

"Tisk, tisk, brother... You used be harder to read."

* * *

Cai couldn't believe what he'd seen and heard. His usually reserved brother all but threatened to maim him for a slip of a girl. And that girl was something else too. She truly must have lost her understanding with memories.

She defended a servant. She wasn't embarrassed to see half-naked men. She challenged him and then managed to disarm him. Obviously, it was only because he was surprised. But, nevertheless, it was unexpected that she knew how to defend and attack. What sort of upbringing did she have? He was no longer surprised that she escaped her captors. He had a theory that she was an impostor. Someone who is only passing as Lady Isabelle Corneille. It would have made sense. The bandits who attacked the Corneilles killed everyone. This girl learned about it, pretended to be Lady Isabelle to claim the dowry, the connections and to marry advantageously. Was she an impostor? Her French was suitable, but accented. Her Anglo-Saxon was nonexistent, and her manners right now were appalling. She didn't seem like a lady.

It deserved investigation.

If he initially thought of ingratiating himself into her good graces, he was sure now that she won't give him time of day. It was unfortunate, but not hopeless.

That evening, when he arrived at the dining hall, he was gratified to see her there. She was dressed and coifed properly, with ribbons decorating her hair. He would admit that she was attractive, if a little too sun burnt: there were visible freckles on her skin that itself had a tan to it.

He tried to sit himself next to her, but his brother and Carter beat him to it, seating themselves on either side of Lady Isabelle. She clearly was friendly with both of them and he could see what Francis meant. Broderick was smitten, although it seemed her heart wasn't moved likewise. The Wolf was harder to read, but given the afternoon display, Cai was positive that he greatly liked the lady. She was open and engaging with the beast and treated him the same as she did Broderick. Cai never seen anything like that before. No wonder, the Wolf was so protective. It was something he could exploit.

If Cai had any doubts about importance of Lady Isabelle to his bastard brother, they all disappeared after dinner entertainment. Lady Isabelle was asked to sing: apparently she was a decent singer. Not expecting much from the event, Cai settled on observing and finding shortcomings in everything the lady did.

She came up to stand close to the hearth that had a few lit large candles instead of firewood placed there. He would have to admit that it was a pretty sight. Candles didn't give enough heat to make it unbearable in the summer but gave plenty of glow to make everything look sublime. He'd never seen such an arrangement. He gave the candles in the fireplace another look.

"Newest fashion on the continent for the summer months," Francis pointed out to him. "Lady Isabelle told us of it. It's lovely. I have to give the Franks props for knowing a thing or two about creating atmosphere."

"Indeed."

Lady Isabelle, a chair provided to her, sat on the edge, a lute propped on her lap. Soft melody began as she played the instrument, her face also soft in the flickering candlelight.

 _Into my garden you flew,_

 _My beautiful dove_

 _Dreams are hanging from each branch_

 _For you to pluck._

 _Ahh, but my love is sweet_

 _And heady like the absinthe_

 _We'll taste the sweetest dream_

 _Together, like a ripe fruit,_

 _Such dreams are rare, love_

 _So take your fill, my dove_

 _Ahh, but the last love is sweet_

 _But sweeter yet - your lips._

Whatever he expected, it wasn't this.

She was a good singer, but that wasn't all.

The melody - so bittersweet and melancholy - sounded like nostalgia itself for the lost love.

Words, risque and pretty, were charming in the ways of the great story: they ensnared listeners and transported all into the dreamlike state.

Her delivery was haunting and beautiful to make everyone feel that love and loss.

She was _very_ good as a performer.

He shook off the effects of her performance to find everyone equally affected. Lord and Lady Marshal looked wistful. Brody was openly admiring, heart in his eyes. Francis salivated nearly rubbing his hands.

The Wolf looked... hunted. Or haunted. His expression was longing and hurt and admiration and desperation and misery. He look was so forceful, it was like it was tangible and Lady Isabelle looked up to meet the gaze.

She looked almost startled and... uncomfortable? confused? Cai couldn't tell, but she dropped her eyes and when she looked again, she avoided the Wolf. Instead she gave a warm smile to Carter, who beamed at her...

The bastard brother held his eyes on the lady for another moment and then shook his head, turned on his heel and left the dining hall. He almost knocked Tyrone off his feet in the way out.

Cai was surprised and looked into an equally surprised eyes of the advisor.

"So, spring must be in the air..." Tyrone drawled.

"In the middle of the summer? How singular..." Cai rejoined. "You think so too?"

Tyrone only shrugged, "Master Bruer takes utmost care of Lady Isabelle's safety."

Indeed, this trip was very interesting.

An idea sprung in his mind. Oh, it would too delicious... He didn't have to do anything to the lady to make her pay for hitting him. His bastard brother would do it for him...

* * *

"Your father still hasn't decided what to do with Isabelle Corneille, or whoever she is," Cai drawled to Francis, when the two of them and Tyrone continued their evening in Cai's chambers. Lord Marshal did have a good wine cellar. "Why is he waiting? Her uncle's response is clear."

"You don't think she is the lost bride?" Tyrone looked alert.

"It is only that her appearance was so fortuitous... No one knows how Isabelle Corneille really looks... And she has conveniently lost her memories."

Tyrone looked pensive, "Her recovery was odd. But, had she truly been an impostor, she should have tried harder to ingratiate herself to her intended. And have attempted to please the Lord and the Lady."

"You told me that Lord Marshal does not think her a horrible prospect. So she must have tried at least."

"I believe it was an inadvertent consequence. She absolutely doesn't try with any Marshal here. Certainly, not with Francis."

Francis looked sour and drank more wine, "Instead, she pays attention to Carter and the Wolf."

"Ahh, yes, the Wolf. Did you see how he looks at her? Can't pry his eyes away," Tyrone intoned.

"Why are you telling me this?" Francis looked embarrassed. He felt like a girl preferring Carter was understandable. A girl preferring the Wolf was an indictment of his character.

It was Cai, who responded, "Because Carter has spent all this time wooing the lady. And he may have been successful. And yet my bastard brother has forgotten that he is merely a beast."

Tyrone and Francis both looked surprised.

"Oh, that's rich. You really think the Wolf has _feelings_ for the lady?" Francis shuddered mentioning the Wolf and feelings together.

"Perhaps, it is time we reminded Lord Marshal to make his decision about her."

Francis, who only wanted to make fun of the Wolf, didn't quite follow, "What does one have to to with the other?"

"Oh, it's nothing much," Cai smiled sardonically. "It seems like your father is trying to get rid of the lady without breaking an agreement with the Corneilles. And we can help him with that. It is such a normal turn of events: all young ladies are arranged to marry. And if such illustrious person like Broderick Carter pays court to a young lady, it is only natural that she develops feelings for him, no?" Cai drawled on. "But, alas, she is forced to marry someone else. Someone, whose own family failed to find a match. Someone, who lives miles and miles away from her first choice. So, it is with great sorrow that the young lady bids farewell to her great love. Tragic..."

"You mean to suggest that she be married off to your brother?" Francis didn't see how was that a punishment for the Wolf. Although, it would be cruel to the girl. "What's your profit in this?"

"Let him deal with a heartache of his own: a wife that loves someone else. Soon her feelings of friendship would turn to disgust. Being given to the beast in marriage is an awful fate. And do you think he'd tolerate a wife who is defiant and loves someone else? He, who kills people in cold blood? And while he is busy with her, he'd have little time to delve into our clan matters. And Carter should remember his place: he is not free to chose."

Tyrone nodded along, "Yes, Carter's father would be pleased we interfered before this mutual inclination made Carter take some ill-advised steps. He should be grateful. So, should be your father, Bruer. After all, we helped him find a bride for the unfortunate son."

"Would father agree?" Francis was thinking of the dowry.

"It's a perfect solution for him to avoid the marriage he doesn't want for you anymore. And he is rewarding the Wolf for his service in retrieving the dowry. The girl is punished by being married to a beast. Carter is put in his place. And the Wolf is stuck with an unwilling bride, who he himself favors."

Francis smiled. He knew he wasn't as smart as Tyrone, but Cai was truly cruel.

* * *

"Your Lordship, what is your decision regarding Lady Isabelle?" Tyrone's voice pierced the quiet and Lord Marshal winced.

He didn't want to make decisions yet. Any choice would have finality to it and Lord Marshal liked to hedge his bets. The girl was... not terrible. She had little lady-like home skills, but he figured there were plenty of maids for that. What she had was a freshness of thinking, a taste for beauty, great attitude with all people, be it servants or her peers. He knew that she was liked among the commoners. Her defense of the personal maid was stuff of great gossip. A lady like that could be a great asset.

But she also was weakened without her family's support. She didn't like Frances, which wasn't surprising. She also was not likely to defer to anyone and would be a wilful and stubborn daughter-in-law. And if he saw it right, then she also preferred Carter to Francis. His son was not anyone's catch, and leaving things the way they were, Francis most likely would end up cuckold.

"You have thoughts on the matter?"

"The Corneilles are pretty much cut her off. As far as they are concerned, as long as she is married here, they'd be satisfied. It does not follow that she must marry your son."

"They who?" Lord Marshal didn't want Carter to benefit from an alliance that was first intended for the lord's son. It would be too great a favor for someone who was decidedly below the Marshals.

"The Bruers."

Lord Marshal looked sharply at his advisor, "I do not get to decide the marriage of the Bruer sons."

"Yes, but Cajus is the representative of his father here. He can agree to Jacob's marriage."

Huh... Lord Marshal sat back. A willful bride, who didn't abide by the normal social structures here. A fearsome groom, who no one believed capable of human emotions. It would be a strange marriage indeed.

"And why would Cajus agree?"

"Finding match for the Wolf was proven difficult. This way they get a respectable bride for him. And the Corneilles would not care if she married another lord's son. As long as the status is similar, they won't lose face."

It was an elegant decision. Lord Marshal thought of all the ways it could be a loss to him and only found one: they'd lose her dowry. Well, it was a blow he could sustain. When he found another bride for Francis, he'd get the dowry then.

"So be it," he decided. The issue has been postponed long enough. "Send the messenger to Devon. And let's get ready for the wedding."


	7. Chapter 7

Cai walked out of the meeting with Lord Marshal, strange anticipation making him anxious. What he and Tyrone managed with the engagement of the bastard to that upstart Isabelle Corneille was nothing short of the coup. Of course, Cai now owed to Tyrone, but he and the older man had their dealings for a while now: he didn't worry too much about that. He doubted his father would protest against the marriage for it was a good match at least on paper. What he worried about was father's reaction to the need to give some living to the Wolf. A married man, not the heir, should not live in the same castle as them. And, of course, father would have to do things the right way. It was for that reason that Cai suggested that Jack be removed to Torquay.

It was a poetic justice, if he said so himself.

Torquay was the lonely and gloomy place that once belonged to the Usher family. They fell into some disrepute when the daughter of the last head of the clan became pregnant out of the wedlock. It would have been hushed and the daughter quickly married off to some dependent knight, but the man who got her that way was none other than William Bruer. The lord had been smitten and insisted that the child be recognized officially, even if he could not marry the mother. Despite the recognition and legitimacy of one William Jacob Bruer, everyone knew he was a bastard and his mother was branded a whore. Her own family barely tolerated her and the bastard since she could not live with the child's father. They were both mistreated badly and soon the woman succumbed to a certain madness. She would be lucid one moment and then would be crying the next. Her own child would soothe her sometimes, and yet other times, she'd hate him. On one fateful visit from Sir Bruer, the woman had apparently had another one of those fits and - no one knew for certain - in the end the child had deep cuts on his face, the woman was completely mad, and Sir Bruer left the Torquay to never come back again while she lived.

She eventually succumbed to her ailments and passed away, unmarried and cursed. Her child lived like a prisoner of his mother's family, unloved and hated. Sir Bruer, after the child was carred, all but forgot about his existence: he had a legitimate heir after all. So, the rumor had it that the bastard was held in his room under lock and key, often starving and dealing with the beatings on the regular basis.

But then came that fateful hunt in the Torquay forest. Cai's father combined the pleasure of the hunt with seeing his other son. Cai was there too and he was curious about his brother. Till that day they never met, but he heard plenty about half-brother. His own mother, a nervous woman prone to fits of hysteria, was a jealous and petty person. For years on she poisoned Cai's mind about the usurper, the son of the whore, the one who might challenge Cai to his inheritance. Cai liked his life and liked his mother, even if she was clingy and tiresome. He hated Jack a priori.

When they met, their father jovial in the most disturbing way, Cai knew his mother's worries weren't just the ramblings of the jealous woman. Bastard child was a spitting image of their father and only his eyes were from his mother. He saw how father had looked and looked at the boy in wistful wonder. The boy was a combination of the father and his long-gone love. Cai hated the bastard all on his own now.

At nine, the bastard was scrawny, but already promising to be tall. His demeanor was wary and polite, but his eyes flashed with uncommon awareness and he answered father's inquiries without unnecessary obeisance. The Ushers, the boy's uncle in particular, raised him as if he was a son of an useful servant. There were few lessons in the art of battle and most education that would be appropriate for the son of the lord and the heir was not a priority. It was more impressive, therefore, that the bastard spoke French and could read and write in Latin. It turned out that he merely was observant and skilled in tongues: he listened to the conversations around him. And while no one taught him how to fight, it would seem that the difficult life at the hands of his mother's family taught him how to survive no matter what.

Being left alone for three days to the mercy of the elements and wild animals failed to kill the boy. His father, for once ashamed, brought the boy with them back to Devon castle.

Soon enough, the bastard became the Wolf.

His uncle, the last of Usher males, died in battle and Torquay became the Wolf's domain.

He never went back there willingly, because Torquay was still the place of his suffering and Cai didn't waste an opportunity to send him back there.

* * *

When the doors of the main hall closed, it might as well have been the gates to hell slamming behind him. The sound traveled, not losing its resonance, through the long corridor and echoing in the alcoves and window wells. Jack was trying to breathe deeply so he didn't drown in his misery. He made couple of unsure steps, as if afraid that legs wouldn't bear his weight. Trying to suppress the shivers, he walked away: his misery was so great it made him numb.

"Master Bruer, sir, don't despair. It is a bit unexpected..." Jack didn't even notice that Tyrone followed him out and caught up to him. He couldn't handle seeing those gloating eyes...

"Get lost! Now!" Jack bellowed at the advisor, not sure he would be able to stop himself from killing the chatty man right here, in the corridors of the York castle. But even then, he suspected, he wouldn't be put in prison, but rather be exiled to Torquay Manor, surrounded by reinforced guards. He still could see his half-brother's excited gaze, when the news was broken to Jack. And his father... his esteemed father would agrer to it all. Or rather, he let Cai deal with this issue, as usual preferring his first-born and heir over everything and everyone.

He walked and his ears still rang with the words of verdict.

"Remember, brother, you have been shown much benevolence. It is a great honor to be entrusted with the management of the Torquay barony. Those lands and borders are essential to the well being of the Bruer clan. You are the only one with connections to the people there. Immediately after your wedding, you shall leave for Torquay. Be grateful that your family found you a suitable bride. Your stay in Torquay won't be lonely this time."

Why? Why was he being punished thus? Hasn't he shown enough humility to swear to support his hateful brother with his sword and his life as he were a mere knight and not the brother born from the same father? Hasn't he agreed to take over the defense of the entire clan for as long as there was a need for him? Then why was he being sent away to Torquay, that prison on the edge of Devon, as soon as possible? And they speak of benevolence and great honor? He must be a truly cursed soul if his own family tried to get rid of him so quickly, sending him to the hated Torquay? It was a benign name of the otherwise unremarkable land, but his lungs filled with metallic scent of blood and his scars ached with phantom pain. Jack put a hand over his mouth and nose, trying to stop the scent from infiltrating him further. Impossible task... His mind was against him and the memories of those nights in the forest crowded him again... What had he done to deserve it all?

And Isabelle...

He tripped and stopped, head coming up abruptly... Lady Isabelle... Isabelle... Brave little girl... They told him she was to become his wife... He did hear it, right? It wasn't just imaginings of the fevered mind? This incredible news only now started to sink in.

Jack put his hand on the wall for support and, taking another step, pressed his head against the cool surface.

Frankly, he never actually stopped to think about a wife. He was one of the few men of his age to not have a wife or betrothed. But then again, what father would give his daughter to be the Wolf's wife? He, the man who had a powerful clan to claim, but who was utterly alone. Not family, not friends...

Except for Isabelle. She said they were friends, didn't she? And this fact made the whole situation unbearable for him. Jack knew that he would have abided by his father's will, had the latter ordered him to marry any young lady in the land if there was some benefit for expanding the influence of the clan. It was his duty as the son of the lord, like any other young peer. And he would have done it without second thoughts... But to see as she recoils in disgust and fear...

He knew how little Isabelle liked the idea of the arranged marriage. She thought little of the typical fate of the lord's wife; was fairly vocal about it with her friends and subtly obvious with the public at large. And now? He would become her jailer. And she would have to leave York, a fairly large settlement with few friends she made here, and come to Torquay Manor, a gloomy place on the edge of the Bruer lands.

Jack scoffed bitterly, although the sound that left his mouth was akin to the pained whimpering. All his life he fought against the label of the cursed man, and yet, providence was showing him exactly that. Providence had a wicked sense of humor.

He wouldn't hide away before the wedding. Couldn't allow himself such cowardice. He had to talk to her, explain things to her. She deserved the explanation as a friend. This was the least he could do for her. With that thought, Jack Bruer purposefully walked towards the still room, where Lady Isabelle, his future wife, liked to spend her mornings trying to learn about local herbs. He didn't have time to indulge in his own discomfort: he had a friend in need of support.

* * *

Kim was at the herbal garden, having pilfered some of the dried blooms from the still room. She was trying to match the dried one to the ones on the vine. What has began as a curiosity about medieval skincare turned into an genuine interest in botany. There were few reference books in the library on herbs, so it was something that had to be learned apprentice-style. Every self-respecting lady knew a little bit about healing and fragrant herbs and Kim, while not keen on the idea of being a proper lady, thought it might actually be useful skill in this time frame where progressive medical care involved blood-letting and leeches.

Right now she was looking at the stem of common mint and tried to see its difference from the penny-royal. She was engrossed in her task, when she heard steady steps behind her.

It was Jack Bruer. Her friend, who also made her anxious. His presence during passing weeks has given her such solid support. More so than Broderick Carter, she leaned on Jack for that support. Unlike Broderick, Jack never showed any interest in her other than of being a friend. It made their interactions remarkably easy. There were teasing and amusement. There were questions and answers about life here in England. There were stories she told him, mostly true to her real life, to explain her upbringing. So, understandably, she was surprised to notice in the last week that Jack was showing some unease around her. Like, she was doing something wrong or saying something wrong. She tried to think back on their recent interactions. It probably started when they had that conversation about arranged marriages that all of them were facing at some point. And it got worse since then. Jack's gaze on her at times was heavy: not in challenge or in assessment, but in some sort of puzzlement and wonder. Was she too obvious in her modernity? Was he noticing something about her as to suggest her true identity as a person not of this time?

And then, of course, there was his brother. She didn't think he'd dislike her because of her scuffle with Cai, but maybe the rules of decorum required that he should be cold with her now that she crossed his older brother? How else could she explain his almost angry look at her durung the dinner, when Cai first arrived and she sang that love song?

That itself was a bad idea, but Kim was running out of the possible song choices that were in French and would be simple for her to play on the lute. As soon as the song ended she looked up to see Jack's inscrutable face, mask giving him a debonair look, and his eyes were pinning her to the ground in their intensity. Did she sing something inappropriate? Were lyrics too risque? Was he mad at her for disarming his brute of a brother? The weight of his look was too much and she looked away first, only to see his back when she looked at him again.

Cai's gaze was equally unsettling, but the entirely different reasons: his eyes broadcast such hatred, it was almost disabling. There was no doubt in her mind that if they crossed path in a darkened hallway, Cai Bruer would attempt to kill her. She knew she was revealing too much when she round-house kicked his wooden sword the moment the weapon clattered to the ground. But at that moment, Cai was so obnoxious, acting like a bully and intimidating Rose. Her maid, no, her friend, was a sweet girl, who was too short and too slender to deal with the consequences of some lord-ling's bad mood. So, Kim jumped in to defend the underdog as per usual.

It was worth it to see the disbelief in eyes of every man in that courtyard.

But then Cai looked ready to murder her and she prepared for the real fight, when Jack physically restrained his brother and whispered harshly to him. Cai still looked ready to burst, but soon enough his expression turned so cold and calculating, she decided to leave as soon as possible,

The rest of the day she wondered what would happen to her and Rose. Would she be punished in some way? Would Rose be punished? It was the first time Kim stopped to think what her actions would have consequences on someone else's life. If Rose got in trouble because of Kim...

Cai's presence was ominous: she knew now that he was here to deliver her uncle's letter. It would seem her fate was entirely in the hands of Lord Marshal now. Would Cai try and sabotage her in some ways? It didn't seem that he thought that Francis should marry her, but what if he tried to influence Lord Marshal to allow the marriage just to retaliate against her? Would he try and 'help' his friend to 'sample' her? Would she be humiliated in some way?

Thoughts like these were on her mind a lot and she waited for the decision about her fate like a prisoner waiting for the execution.

Rose collected what gossip she could about Cai Bruer and Lord Marshal's thinking on the matter of the marriage, but Kim's best source of intelligence was Francis and his tendency to babble when he tried to show off. This was how she discovered that Cai was a cruel man without concern for anyone, including his own brother. This was how she discovered that she definitely was not going back to the continent. This was how she discovered that Lord Marshal was considering marrying her off to someone other than Francis himself. She raked her brain thinking who that might be. Broderick's marriage required an approval of his father. So did the marriages of any other eligible men. It didn't narrow the field: it could be anyone. Even Cai Bruer himself. She shuddered thinking of being married to him.

Unable to find any solution on her own, she tried to distract herself. Like she was doing right now, when Jack found her.

She knew immediately by his expression that he had something serious to discuss. All manner of ideas were running in her head: he had to leave, they had to stop being friends, Lord Marshal decided her fate and she had to marry Francis...

She was anxious and she just babbled at him about herbs and still room and the garden and the savoriness of mint tisane with honey... He listened to her and even looked where she pointed at the leaves on the plants. He breathed in the scents of crushed leaves as Kim insisted.

* * *

She couldn't have known that Jack was as anxious as her at the moment and let her ramblings go on as he gathered his own wherewithal. He didn't mind hearing about mint and smelling the strong aroma, knowing that they have chased the metallic scent of blood, the one that chased him ever since he heard about his exile back to Torquay.

"Is it annoying you?" Lady Isabelle asked him.

"Pardon me?" Jack responded, emerging from his thoughts.

"You are frowning. Does this conversation annoy you?"

Jack sighed and took the bunches of blooms from her hands to hold them in his, "Lord Marshal made his decision. So has my brother."

Lady Isabelle stepped back and her eyes were full of fear and resignation, "And?"

"You won't be marrying Francis. Instead, you are to marry me."

"Oh?"

It was strange, but the girl didn't look disappointed. More surprised. Jack immediately delved into the aspects of their future union.

"Since your uncle appears determined to have you settled here, in Anglia," Jack phrased it as delicately as he could. "And Lord Marshal made a promise to your late father to see that you are married according to your station. I emerged as a valid choice. My family agrees to the alliance, but we would be settled not in castle in Devon, but in Torquay Manor. There is no option here: we are to travel there immediately after the ceremony."

Lady Isabelle knew what Toquay Manor was: Jack has mentioned the hellhole that was his home from early childhood with much derision and contempt. She knew he suffered there.

"Is it an exile for you?" at his nod, she continued. "You're being exiled again. Is it because of me? Because you are marrying me?"

She seemed concerned about this - him - at the moment. And Jack didn't understand her.

"Milady, do you not comprehend that you shall become my wife?" he asked gently, taking her hand in his again. She smiled and nodded. He frowned again. "Didn't you want to remain unattached? To live without dictates of people so wholly unconnected to you? Have you changed your mind?"

"I haven't changed my mind. It's just... This is a better outcome than most."

"What? Why... Are you saying that I am a better choice of all?" Jack was stupefied. It was seemingly her special gift: to surprise and stupefy him. "Why?"

She seemed to think on something and then smiled brightly, "It's better that I show you."

She walked fast to the still room and by the time he joined her, she managed to climb the work bench and then onto the table itself. Jack, who didn't understand what was happening, wondered if she was trying to reach some herbs tied to the rafters so he stayed close by. He had gotten used to the fact that Lady Isabelle cared little for some decorum and would lift her skirts high, showing the tops of the boots. Like now.

In the meantime, she straightened on top of the table, fixed her skirt and looked at him down her nose with a mischievous expression. Then she spread her arms like wings and only said one word.

"Catch!"

She started falling from the table, her body twisting mid-air and Jack felt like his hear skipped a beat or two.

"You are insane," he breathed out couple of seconds later, holding a smiling girl in his arms, her skirts a mass of fabric billowing around them. "You are insane. What were trying to prove with this childish act?"

"You caught me," unlike him she was unperturbed. She seemed to settle in his arms as if she wasn't planning to leave them any time soon. "I am not afraid of anything when I am next to you. Whatever happens, I believe you shall always catch me."

It was such a strange explanation. As strange as the girl herself. And yet, it was quite simple. He never saw himself in this angle; he doubted anyone did. He doubted anyone thought him capable. But she did. And she was right: she would be safe with him. He already vowed to himself to protect her: what better way to make sure of it, if not by being her husband?

What an odd couple they'd make. He - the cursed bastard son, her - the girl with no memories.

And yet, for the first time since forever, the idea of being sent to Torquay was not miserable to him. She would be with him. His friend, who for some reason had faith in him. So, he allowed hope to blossom in his heart.

However, they hadn't had time to enjoy the closeness of their embrace. Isabelle was relaxing in his arms and Jack was enjoying her trust in him. They heard quick steps approaching and soon a disheveled Broderick Carter barged into the still room.

"Milady Belle, I just heard that... What are doing to her, Jack?" his tone became belligerent.

Of course the scene before Carter was completely outside the norms of decorum. And considering the news of the arrangement...

"I would appreciate that you do not take such liberties with my intended's name. She is Lady Isabelle Corneille, soon-to-be-Bruer, to you," Jack's words had warning to them even as his wide smile belied them.

Jack actually gloated at the moment. For the first time ever, he had something - someone - others would be envious of.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: This ended up being a very long chapter.

* * *

Kim was quickly dispatched to talk to Lady Marshal about the ceremony and trousseaux and other things of that nature. It would appear that the Marshals were to act as her guardians here. She was reluctant to leave the two men alone, but their mutual animosity has been bubbling underneath the surface for quite some time and this news had to have been a great shock to Broderick. She wished she could have broken the news to him herself, but not with her luck. Broderick, for all that he was gallant to her, was obviously dismissive of Jack and was slightly better than Francis and Cai in his contempt of the Wolf. She dreaded how that conversation would go.

She left the two men alone, but not before nodding to Broderick, who barely managed a polite bow to her, and a reassuring smile to Jack, whose response smile was a little strained.

Rose, like most servants, already heard the news and wailed that her 'poor pretty mistress' was truly unfortunate to have to marry the cursed Wolf. Kim tried to reassure the girl that Jack wasn't going to devour her or anything like that, but Jack's fearsome reputation existed for too long for it to be reversed just because of Kim's say so. Eventually, Kim simply ordered Rose to stop crying and start reviewing what little belongings she accumulated to see if there was something that needed mending.

Next on the list was a visit to Lady Marshal. Up until this point, their interactions were strained, with Lady Marshal being constantly disappointed in Kim's lack of knowledge of the lady-like pursuits. It was in recent days that Kim saw a different side to the older lady. She appreciated Kim's input on interior decorating like the suggestion about candles in the hearth. Or Kim's creation of rose water creme. It was something she remembered doing when her mom went through an all-natural phase. It involved making your own cosmetics and Kim ended up being the one stirring the beeswax, rose water and a bit of olive oil to create a facial creme. She didn't think she'd ever thank her mom's hippy ways, but she did. State of skincare in these times was a little lacking. When she made it first with Rose's help, the news spread quickly and Kim ended up creating extra batch for Lady Marshal and even taught other maids how to do it.

That was to say, Lady Marshal was tolerant of Kim now. So, Kim was quite surprised to see the older lady smiling a sad smile at Kim. She was even more surprised when the lady hugged Kim out of the blue. Kim warily patted the woman's back thinking that maybe Lady Marshal was overjoyed that Kim wouldn't become her daughter-in-law. Finally, Lady Marshal let go of Kim and turned to her own maid.

"Go and get the register of all that was recovered from Lady Isabelle's trousseaux. There isn't a lot of time left and we need to make sure that she has a full complement of items. You and I, my dear, are off to the store rooms."

The maid ran to comply and Kim followed Lady Marshal out, wondering if someone possessed her hostess, because she never, ever, called Kim anything other than Lady Isabelle. They were in the basement part of the castle, near the store rooms, alone, when Lady Marshal turned to her abruptly.

"My dear, I cannot question my husband's decisions, but know that he and I were not of the same mind on the subject of your marriage," the Lady spoke urgently. "While you lack a lot of skills, you showed great ability to learn and I thought that with time you'd either recover your memories or learn anew. But my husband was impatient and now you are off to Torquay with... with... that... man as your husband."

It was obvious that she struggled not to call Jack by his moniker of the Wolf or even worse.

"I am grateful for your approval, milady," Kim began, knowing that Lady Marshal was doing something extraordinary by voicing the disagreement with her husband. "I shall be fine. Mr. Bruer is a lord's son and has never treated me badly. I have no reasons to fear my future."

Lady Marshal looked at Kim with a certain wistful knowledge, "You are still young and naïve, my dear. There are many ways a man can mistreat his wife. I only pray that clan matters would keep Mr. Bruer busy."

The older woman turned away and opened the store room, leaving Kim wondering about the state of marriage in the York castle. If she wasn't mistaken, Lady Marshal just warned her of the spousal abuse. Again, it was obvious that Jack's reputation had everyone convinced that Kim was to be a battered wife.

She wanted to scoff at this: she had no reason to think he would be a wife-beater. But it did make her wonder whether Jack intended to make this marriage real. The thought made her breathing stutter and anxiety filled her to the brim.

* * *

Thoughts of Lady... No, he could call her simply Isabelle now. Jack thought of Isabelle and her unconventional ways of showing trust and it filled him with warmth. He fought a smile that threatened to appear on his lips. Now wasn't the time. Right now there was a belligerent man, who courted Isabelle and who was pissed. At Jack. Not that it was a new experience: Carter never cared for Jack and the feeling was mutual.

"How did you manage it?" Carter bit out.

"What exactly? Engagement with Lady Isabelle or what you just witnessed?" Jack apparently wasn't above gloating.

"Both! How did you prevail over Lord Marshal? To give such a delicate flower to you?!"

The delicate flower in question could surprise and disarm a grown man and stare the Wolf down, but Carter didn't see that. Jack smirked thinking that he knew Isabelle better than Carter did.

"And what of it? Do you think I will eat her alive?" Jack mentally checked the area they were in. Just in case they'd have to fight.

"Lady Isabelle could have had other ideas about her marriage. She might have preferred someone else," Carter gave Jack an insufferably superior look. Obviously, the idiot thought of himself. And maybe this jab would hurt Jack, but he remembered her recent stunt and how she declared him to be the better option. Better than Carter. He recalled vividly the weight of her in his arms, the warm smile, the soft hands... And had to stop himself before he drowned in the memories. He breathed in and looked back at Carter. He might not have much experience with women, but she hardly acted like a besotted woman who was married off to someone else.

Before he could vocalize any of it, Carter went on, "You can't use her vulnerable position." This time Carter's fists were clenched.

"As you are aware, I have no authority to force her into anything. It was the decision of Lord Marshal, who was given full right to do so by her uncle," Jack was quickly losing his patience with the ever noble man.

"It was an unjust decision!" Carter exclaimed and Jack narrowed his eyes.

"I'm sure _your_ lord would like to hear more of your opinions on the matter," he said acerbically. "Why, I believe he might decide that you too deserve to be exiled to cool off. I'm not sure if York has it own version of Torquay, but never fear. He might sent you to the Crusade."

Jack went to leave: he didn't plan to stand there and let Carter lash out at him. He walked past Carter and bumped his shoulder hard.

That was all it took.

Carter grabbed his right arm to make him stop and Jack used the momentum to turn around, step behind Carter, and hold painfully tight onto other's man's wrist. His left hand, now with a thin blade, was placed to Carter's throat.

"Do you challenge me to a duel, Sir Carter?" Jack asked very formally. "If so, you must state your grievance."

Internally, Jack relished this moment. He could take Carter in a duel with one hand tied back. The man was good with a longsword, but Jack was better. At everything. And unlike Carter, Jack learned how to survive before he learned his letters. There was nothing this spoiled firstborn son and heir, cherished by his father and loved by his mother, could do to Jack. Jack already was being generous with him by asking about a formal duel. Those were fought till first blood and were supervised by a judge.

Carter was silent, his face purpling. Yes, Jack didn't think Carter had any official grievances. Just because he fancied Isabelle, didn't mean he had grounds to challenge her marriage.

Jack let him go and stepped around. He was almost by the door, when he heard an angry voice.

"Don't you dare act the brute with her," Carter practically growled at him. Jack turned to find Carter's eyes filled with murderous contempt. "Just because you are to be her husband, doesn't mean she is yours to do whatever you please. She better be in good health."

Jack smirked again, infusing his features with enough insolence to deliver the next words, "I plan to take good care of _my wife._ And if you insist on meddling in my family's affairs, _I_ shall have sufficient grievances to challenge _you_ to a duel. Or we can resolve it all here and now. Your sword to my knife."

Carter wasn't an idiot. He stepped down.

Jack left thinking how quickly his good mood was spoiled by some meddlesome young swains. He wished he could see Isabelle now. She would have said something funny or highly unusual or would have told him a story. She never failed to improve his mood. It was amazing how quickly she became his antidote for all the gloominess and negative reactions from people.

He scoffed at Carter' audacity to remind him to take care of Isabelle: she was the brightest part of his life right now. He didn't need any reminders to make sure she continued to be like she was: bright, happy, just.

* * *

The date was set and preparations for the wedding were handled like a military excursion: quickly, with precision, without losing precious time on unnecessary things. _They really do want to get rid of me so much_ , Jack thought with a sardonic smile.

Jack hadn't been able to meet Lady Isabelle at all. He saw her briefly at the church when the banns were read, but couldn't actually come close to talk.

At least they, Isabelle and himself, were equipped with all the items necessary for a young couple. In addition to her trousseaux and his own equipment, they also received Rose as Isabelle's personal maid. The Marshals knew of the bond between the young women and agreed to let Rose come into Isabelle's service. He had his own men, twelve in total, that he traveled with, but Cai insisted that his men join them for the travel to Torquay since it was a baron's son traveling party. Of course, it was as much as the prisoner's convoy as it was an escort for the newlyweds. But Jack didn't mind. More men meant more security for his Isabelle.

The day of the wedding came swiftly. Jack got up with dawn as was his habit, except his heart was beating out of the ribcage. Usually he tended to himself, but this morning his clothing was more elaborate and he needed a close shave. He didn't think he could do it himself, feeling the trembling inside the pit of the stomach. His servant, the one who tended to him since Jack arrived at Devon castle, habitually shaved his master and proffered the mask. The servant was probably one of the few people who didn't recoil from the sight of Jack's scars. They were no longer angry red, but the raised and ropey lines were still pink and red in spots, drawing everyone's attention to themselves.

Jack placed the mask over his face and looked over himself one more time. He was as ready as he'd ever be.

* * *

Kim was awoken with the first rays of sun over the horizon. The day before, she was washed and massaged with the fragrant rose oil, so today her skin was soft and supple. Now was the time to get dressed. As she learned, there was no specific requirement for a wedding dress other than it had to be the best one a lady owned. Lady Marshal, who only had sons, gifted Kim with a pale pink dress that had silver piping and gossamer sleeves. It had to be adjusted, but when it was finally fitted to her, Kim could not deny that it was a gorgeous dress.

Then it was time for her hair. The style was more elaborate, with ribbons and sprigs and flowers woven through. In the end it looked like a flower crown on her head and Kim had to give it credit: medieval wedding fashion was beautiful even if she felt like she was poked and prodded and her scalp tingled from pins and tight braids. The final touch was a large pendant, which was apparently a wedding present from her family. It was a large circular cabochon style amethyst set in silver. It was a crude setting, a row of seed pearls around it, followed by another row of cabochon stones: garnet, jasper, lapis and pearls. It was a large piece, a little crude, and had a noticeable weight to it. It hang low on her chest, but it definitely stood out.

Then she was let out of her room surrounded by maids, all wearing pink ribbons to match Kim's dress.

She breathed out a shaky breath. Soon. Very soon she would be married.

* * *

Jack would never admit it, but he was very nervous. He was so used to life that treated him harshly whenever he dared to hope. And right now he was waiting for something terrible to happen. It made him irritable with all the people gathering to witness the marriage of the Wolf. It wasn't so much the deference to Lady Isabelle or Lord Marshal, but an unhealthy curiosity to see the poor soul that was to marry the beastly Wolf. Jack could hear people's murmurs or even loud talking as they exchanged made up gossip. He was used to it all, but now he realized that Isabelle would have to learn to deal with this unpleasantness.

He was already at the altar, Cai acting the witness, when she appeared in the church like a fairy in her pink clothes. She walked towards him and when she stopped near, he realized he wasn't breathing all this time. So she could be like this too - grown up and serious, looking better than any blood princesses. She lifted her bright eye at him and smiled wide. He returned it, like he always did with her. This was familiar: it was him and her and they were friends.

* * *

In movies and shows the weddings were always heartfelt and beautiful and envy-inducing. But in reality, the full service was tiresome. Kim, like any girl, did dream about an amazing wedding for herself some day, but at the moment she wondered if going to the justice of the peace was the wiser choice. The ceremony, the long service, the foreign languages, it all blended into one hazy chore. When the time came for them to exchange 'I dos,' Kim just followed Jack's lead, repeating words after him. Lady Marshal explained that they would have to be exchanging 'weds' - something tangible that symbolized their consent to marriage. Jack presented her with a gold ring made in the same simple style of the time. It had largish dark blue stone in the middle and when he moved it towards her, it caught the light of candles and she realized that it was a star sapphire. Despite the crude setting and its large size, the stone shone brightly and she loved it on sight. Her own gift to Jack was a simple silver cross that she found in the same box as the pendent.

The formal part was over and Kim sighed in relief that no one asked them to kiss to seal the deal. That must have been a more modern convention. They walked back to the dining hall, which had more tabled and benches set up to accommodate a larger crowd. Kim was glad for it: she hadn't had anything to eat since she woke up, her feet hurt from standing so long and she dearly wanted to sit down.

So the moment she was shown her seat, she plopped down and ate her fill. Jack sat next to her and every now and then she caught his amused looks. Soon enough he joined her in eating and they were comfortably silent while getting full.

Finally satisfied, she looked up to take in the sight. There were more people dining than usual and clearly wine and ale were plentiful. People's voices were getting louder, she heard some slurring singing coming from the far end, where knights were sitting. Judging by the way they tried to grab the maids, these men were in their cups and enjoyed some typical men talk about women. She was glad her old English was still fairly basic: she did not want to hear what they were saying.

But every now and then she'd hear the dreaded 'curs' and 'wolf' and would see people give her pitying glances and she was irritated. She looked at Jack and saw that he had the same impassive expression that he mastered so well. When she did catch his eyes, they were cold and forbidding. Clearly he heard them too. She had to do something. Even if he was used to this it didn't mean he had to listen to it.

"You seem unhappy. This is our wedding, after all," she said demurely and added with a smile. "Husband."

"But you are happy enough for both of us, wife," he returned with the same tone. And even though he didn't turn to look at her, she saw that his lips twitched in suppressed smile.

"Of course, someone has to act like we are welcoming everyone to this feast. Since you have managed to scare most of our innocent guests. I understand that it's your favorite pastime, but couldn't you at least take a break from it on this auspicious occasion?" Kim shook her head in mock consternation.

"Where do you see innocent people here?" he returned with mock surprise, but his eyes were laughing. "And you are scolding me as usual. If I knew that you'd be such a nagging wife, I would have left for Torquay on my own."

"Erm..." they heard someone clearing their throat and both turned to the intruders. Francis and Broderick were standing near them, both wearing the same expression of disbelief. "We are here to congratulate you on the marriage, Lady Isabelle, but you were... busy..."

Broderick sounded so unsure, looking between her and Jack, that Kim barely stopped herself from snorting. They didn't know that it was the norm for her and Jack to bicker like this. It was partly because she was always sarcastic and almost no one here got her, but Jack did. And he liked to rile her up, as if enjoying her 'normal' reactions.

Twilight descended on York. All the speeches were said and all the gift were given. It was time for the newlyweds to retire to their chambers. But before Jack and Kim could make it out of the dining hall, they were stopped by Cai Bruer. He stopped in front of Jack and Kim finally saw the family resemblance between them. They had drastically different coloring, but the height and physical build were the same.

"You make a lovely bride, Lady Isabelle. I'd say you are wasted on someone like him, but then, you hardly know your place and have no manners, so maybe you are better off with the Wolf, rather than a man."

She could feel Jack's fury and pain. It was his own brother, who called him so. Kim saw Jack's hand tightening into a fist, but before he could say anything, Cai went on, "The marriage is not complete until its consummated. If you want, bother, I can explain things to you. It is different with a woman than with a-"

He didn't get to finish as Lady Marshal appeared next to him and scolded loudly, "Cai Bruer, remember your manners and behave yourself according to your station. Lady Isabelle was our ward until this moment and I shall take offense in her name."

Her glare was hard and she looked at Cai as if he was a mere boy, not a grown man. Cai's jowls jumped at how hard he was clenching his teeth, but he really couldn't do anything but to abide by the dictate of the lady of the castle. He gave a curt bow and left them.

"Thank you, Lady Marshal," Kim said sincerely. She was in earnest: if it wasn't for the lady's interference, Kim would have slapped Cai. Or Jack would have hit his brother. And then the whole thing would have turned messy.

"Never mind, my dear. But, I need to talk to you, since you are without mother."

She gave such a meaningful look to Jack that he left with just a polite bow.

Lady Marshal walked with her towards Jack's rooms, which would be their wedding quarters tonight. Apprehension filled her and she barely paid attention to her companion. The older woman twisted the hem of the long sleeve and then began.

"My dear, you are a wife now and as such there are certain responsibilities that you must... endure," the woman's voice got quieter and Kim realized that she was about to have a sex talk with a woman from the 12th century. As embarrassing as it was during Health class in school and as mortifying as it was to hear it from her own mother when her period first came, Kim imagined that this talk would be worse. "Just... let him do whatever it is that he needs to do. Endure it and God would reward you with child. And then, there would be a reprieve from... enduring. You understand my meaning? A child, especially a son, make all men happy."

Kim only nodded in acquiescence. This was not bad, she thought. Completely useless, but not as embarrassing as she imagined.

She was more concerned with Jack's state of mind. Cai's cruel words, the implication in them, were terrible and hurt him. She didn't know what to do. Should she just let him deal with this on his own? Should she try and talk to him? Would he take it as pity? Would she anger him? Would it be better that he's angry with her than hurt?

She arrived at Jack's rooms and Rose was there to help her undress. The girl was sniffling and surreptitiously showed Kim that the water jug by her side contained wine instead.

'To help you _endure,_ milady.'

Kim didn't have in her to argue with the maid. It was useless and she was still anxious.

She waited for him to show up for a long time. Eventually she even drank the wine just to pass time. She was worried about him, about his emotional well-being.

She succumbed to sleep, mumbling to herself about endurance and children that would not happen at all if there was no husband to endure.

 _She was riding the horse chasing after a smiling Jack. He laughed at her for being a poor rider and she spurred the horse. Laughter was resonating and Jack moved to cross the river over the bridge. Kim followed, keen to catching up. Her hand held reins and the animal beneath her was so strong, she could feel its muscles move. She looked up at Jack, who stopped on the other side of the river and made a beckoning motion with his hand. She huffed: he was showing off his superior riding skills. She leaned onto the horse's neck and something happened. The horse made a jerky move and Kim felt herself tilt sideways. She saw Jack's face instantly change from smile into concern and he moved towards her, but he was too far away. She fell into the river. She tried to swim, but her legs and arms were restricted by the heavy clothes and last she saw was the colorless circle of sun through the murky water._

"Isabelle! Wake up! Wake up! It's just a nightmare."

She opened eyes and sat up, gasping quick breaths. The room was dusky, almost half the candles were extinguished.

Jack was looking at her in worry. Her dream - he was in it. She tried to remember, but it was quickly fading like smoke from candles. Something about bridges, and horses, and river...

"Nightmare... I think you were in it," she said unthinkingly, trying to grasp the elusive images. "We need to talk about-"

"I see," he said tonelessly and turned away. He was lying on his back next to her and closed his eyes.

Kim was annoyed that he would so easily dismiss her. They needed to talk about Cai's words and Jack's expectations for the marriage.

So, she simply put her elbows on his chest and peered down at him.

* * *

Jack learned two more facts about his wife. One, she had very sharp elbows when they dug into his chest. Second, she probably was the only one he knew, who _wanted_ to talk to a person featured in their nightmare. He froze at first contact, opened his eyes and stared at her without movement. She was very close, their noses almost touching.

"Hey, is this how you are going to be: turn silent and disappear when you are upset?" his young wife demanded in the middle of the night.

But, Jack was not in the mood to talk about anything after his brother's well wishes. The whole day was draining and they were set to leave on the morn. He turn to the side, dislodging her in the process, and pinned her with his arm to the bed.

"We are leaving early tomorrow. Go to sleep," he sighed and closed his eye again. But Isabelle huffed and squirmed, clearly not ready to give up. So her simply hugged her close to him just to stop her from moving around. "Fine, we shall talk tomorrow. Just sleep already."

He noted that she froze in his hold and stayed quiet.

He couldn't say he ever imagined what his wedding night would be like, but holding a pretty girl with fragrant hair was certainly not a bad option.


	9. Chapter 9

First rays of sun were just touching the roofs of the castle compound, but there was already a clamor of people near the main gates. Servants were loading baggage and harnessed horses into carts for long trip. Armed men were gathering and readying for the convoy. Grooms prepared a small carriage for travel. Here also stood the lady of the castle, her eldest son, the advisor and Broderick Carter. Soon, Kim joined them at the gates with Rose following her.

Kim, who couldn't sleep for a long time after Jack joined her in bed, only managed a brief nap when the sky was already lightening. Of course, she was barely awake now. She wasn't entirely mentally present when Rose dressed her and styled her hair with a neat lacy cap covering the low bun. Somehow despite it being the late summer, one could already feel autumn in the morning and Kim was bundled in the light cloak that matched her dark blue traveling dress. She fought off the urge to yawn and closed her eyes, swaying slightly in the wind. While Jack talked to Lord Marshal and Tyrone, Lady Marshal approached her. She looked Kim over several times and finally spoke.

"Is everything alright with you and Master Bruer?" the older woman asked carefully.

"Everything was fine until his brother gave us his well wishes," Kim's tone was dripping in disdain despite her sleepiness.

"Lady Isabelle! Dear, please, refrain from such statements. He is your family now. Eventually, he would be the head of the clan. I shall pray that you recover your memories or at least learn the appropriate manners soon. You should never speak so forwardly."

Kim nodded sullenly. It wasn't the first time she was reprimanded for her directness. All she wanted right now was to sleep but the long good-bye was testing her patience.

Broderick and Francis joined them too and Carter's face was the picture of wistful disappointment. He bowed to her.

"Milady, I wish you safe travels. May you be spared the highway bandits and bad weather. And," he slowed and looked over at Jack, "-any other unfortunate circumstances."

Francis nodded along, "Yes, take care of yourself. Your new husband is known for his swift temper and swifter justice. They say he rid the forests of Devon of any and all bandits."

Lady Marshal scoffed and lightly slapped her son's wrist, "Francis, how many time did I tell you not to repeat rumors. Especially where Master Bruer can hear you. And there is no need to scare Lady Isabelle. "

But Kim only waved her hand off, "If he did, then our travel would be quite safe. No bandits, no ambushes. So you see, Mr. Carter, you have no reason to worry. I certainly feel safe."

"R-right... you are, milady," Lady Marshal spoke slightly in shock. None of the three residents of York castle expected such unorthodox conclusions from their fear-mongering.

But before any one of them could say more, a familiar gruff voice called out, "Isabelle, it is time for us to go."

Jack Bruer in his habitual all black clothes loomed behind the two young men and Lady Marshal, his face impassive.

Kim couldn't hide the relief: finally, she could sleep. She managed to hide her reaction enough to bow to her companions.

With well wishes, some sincere and some - not, the Bruers said good-byes to all present at the yard. Kim, aided by Jack, climbed the carriage and Rose joined her.

* * *

Jack stood there a little longer, saying his final parting words to Lord and Lady Marshal.

But before he mounted the horse, he walked by the carriage and took a glance through the small window, because it was unusually quiet. And then sighed. Mostly from a relief. Isabelle was merely asleep and not gone off somewhere. She was reclined back, but the straight back of the seat wasn't allowing for a comfortable position. He sighed again. This time in consternation: he told her to sleep last night, didn't he? But did she listen? No. He wasn't upset that she had a nightmare about him. Really. After all that she heard and especially Cai's words, it was no wonder she'd have night terrors about him.

He himself needed a little time to calm down. Despite his stoic attitude, like most people, he was stung by his family's continuous rejection of him. Even Cai's acceptance was something Jack wanted. Even knowing his brother for who he was: a petty and cruel person with little morals. Words that didn't even register when coming from other people, hurt him when it was his family saying them. There wasn't much to do when that happened, but to wait the pain out. When he finally was calm enough, he realized that it was quite late. Therefore he had to enter his chambers quietly. If someone saw him, the newlywed, coming so late into his quarters on a wedding night, who knew what sort rumors would that create?

When he did come in undetected, he discovered that his bride was already asleep. But restlessly. He knew immediately what was the matter: he had his share of nightmares in his lifetime. His entire childhood, nightmares were constant and devastating, as if his waking hours were any better. So he woke Isabelle up without hesitation: she didn't need to suffer. Who knew that after seeing him in her nightmare she would want to share it with him immediately? At that point he actually tried to prepare himself for the look of fear in her eyes - the one he'd expected since they first met, the one that everyone who knew him usually had.

However, her next actions reassured him that Isabelle had been and still was an exception to the rule. There was no doubt that she did not fear him. At all. This strange girl, like a shooting star fallen from the sky or a water sprite, had no care for the human conventions. Even now, when they were leaving, she defended him again as if not realizing what Francis and Broderick were suggesting about her husband's brutish ways. She cleverly defended him by twisting their words and turning them into a compliment of sorts. One would assume he was a hero. Who knew that he had to marry to get a praise?

Isabelle frowned in her sleep and Jack realized that he got lost in his thoughts again. Like this morning, when he watched her sleep on his pillows. She slept with mouth open and her lashes fluttered a little. The sky was getting lighter and lighter, but he couldn't stop staring. And in his heart grew a new feeling, one he didn't experience before and couldn't name.

Jack sighed again and tried to settle his mind, taking one last look at the sleeping girl. How could she sleep in this uncomfortable position? The sun wasn't fully out yet and there was a morning chill in the air, but such details didn't bother him at all. He took off his light cloak, folded it and stuffed in gently under her head. After closing the curtain he strode to the horse. One last hand wave to the castle inhabitants, and he counted the horse and exited the gates first, leading his party of armed men, loaded carts, servants and one sleeping girl.

* * *

Rose didn't know what to think of the new husband of her mistress. By all accounts he was fearsome and dangerous man. Everyone knew that. There were many stories of his savagery: he killed animals and men alike with ease. People said that he drove his own mother insane; that even forest animals avoided him; that Devil marked his face. She first saw him when he drove like the devil's own down the market street and plucked her mistress off the ground. In that moment Rose thought him to be the Lucifer himself, who came down to sow death on all God's people. And it would make sense that he would target her mistress, who was like an angel herself. Lady Isabelle was kind and gentle; she didn't act like servants were merely very clever animals. She always asked, never demanded. She often questioned Rose about simple things and helped Rose with French words.

But there must be something in Lucifer from his days in paradise, because he spared her mistress and let her live, even when she talked back at him and scolded him.

Then, every time her mistress went outside castle walls, the Wolf would appear like a dark wraith and follow her, and Rose was confident that nothing would befall her mistress then. No one dared to look at her, because looking at her would mean looking into the Wolf's eyes.

Rose had to look at those eyes sometimes and every time she counted herself lucky to be alive. They made her forget how to breath and froze her in spot where she stood. And if he spoke to her, her tongue usually forgot how to move and she could only bow low to him, avoiding the direct look.

So when she learned that her mistress were to marry the Wolf, Rose cried. She knew that once Lady Isabelle became Mrs. Bruer, he would never give her up: the dark prince found his light.

And now, Rose was going with her mistress to Torquay. She was glad to be with Lady Isabelle and dreaded the new master. Perhaps, now that Lady Isabelle was his, he'd show his Devil's side and try and kill the light in her angelic mistress?

When they were about to leave the castle in York, the Wolf looked inside the carriage and placed his cloak under Lady Isabelle's head. Rose didn't see what his eyes looked like then, but his movements were so gentle, she almost didn't believe her eyes. Was this really the Wolf?

And then he turned his eyes to her and, yes, it was him: the cold and burning look was hard and oppressive making her swallow hard.

* * *

Kim didn't know how long she slept, but when she woke she felt well rested. She lazily stretched out, as much as the confined space allowed and felt something smooth and light slide down her back. She pulled it forward and saw a black cloak, which she saw on someone in particular this morning. She smiled and collected the cloth, folding it neatly. It smelled a little of mint and forest and she realized that it was distinctly Jack's scent. Her husband's scent. What a strange notion...

Her brain quickly supplied memories of the last night and Kim froze in distress. How could she be so stupid? _Kim, what was wrong with you?_ she scolded herself. How could she tell him unthinkingly that she had a nightmare with him in it, after his brother's cruel words? Was he upset with her? They didn't even have a chance to speak before they departed. What should she do? They should clear the air, but how to do so while they travel? And without witnesses?

While she was thinking about her predicament, the carriage stopped moving and a servant of her husband's politely announced that it was midday and Master Bruer ordered a meal stop. Oh well, it seemed like her opportunity was coming up soon. Kim pondered how to begin her conversation as she climbed out of the small space. She vividly remembered her impressions from the travel to the York castle. It still was the same: small confined space, bumpy roads, boredom. Carriage travel had its disadvantages. Even paved roads were bumpy compared to the modern asphalt smoothness of American highways.

Jack was giving directions to servants, who were setting up a place in the shade of the large tree for the newlyweds to have their repast. Kim was observing it all with slightly displaced feeling: her mind was occupied with how to approach him with her apology. While unintentionally, she upset him with her words. How to explain to him so he didn't think it was some sort of the weak coverup, which she invented just now? She nervously played with the hem of her sleeve, walking to and fro a short distance on the path. It was when she made another turn that she bumped into someone.

"Ow," she mumbled, rubbing forehead, and looked up to the culprit. The reason for her disquiet was looking at her down his nose.

"What are doing?" he asked her seriously, observing intently all her movements.

"Well, I... I... That is..." Kim was caught unawares and tried to come up with some coherent explanation. Meanwhile, Jack was not helping at all. His head tilted to the side and he gave her a once over.

"It's unusual how quiet and timid you are," he said finally and unexpectedly lowered his head to hers in his usual manner of invading personal space. Which only caused her to panic even more. "What's the matter? What are you planning?"

Kim could only stare at him with wide eyes. His proximity to her was such that his piercing eyes were all that she could see and when he spoke his lips were just too close. She lost the last scattered thoughts in her brain and could only see and feel. His still very remarkable hazel eyes were lit with curiosity and something else; his lips were still well shaped and pulled into a smirk; his familiar scent still a refreshing mint even in the midday... He looked and she looked back and it was as if the air between them got heavier and more tangible. His focused gaze on her was creating a strange sensation of the magnetic field that trapped her and pulled close...

She was attracted to him, she realized with a start. She probably was attracted to him before, but the worries about her future fate suppressed this feeling and now, when she felt safe, it came back with vengeance. She blinked in realization and anxiety. She was attracted to Jack Bruer and he was her husband! Oh good god...

Jack, as if sensing her troubled state of mind, straightened and took her hand. "Fine, keep your secret. But it is long past time that you had your midday meal. Did you even break the fast this morning? No? What are you thinking about all the time that you forget to eat?"

He grumbled at her as he walked with her towards the improvised table. She sat on a pillow opposite him and took a cup of milk before her, which allowed her to avoid looking at him directly. She couldn't afford to look at him - he had a strange and hypnotic effect on her. Especially when he was close and invaded her space and took her hand, which he did often enough. Only he first did it to intimidate her and later - to protect her.

She sighed and went about taking another sip of milk, when a slice of bread with cheese was place on top of the cup. She looked up in shock to see his serious look.

"Are planning to starve to death? Or did you forget how to use your knife and fork?"

She could only bend her head in agreement and took the offering with thanks. She ate slowly trying to come up with her strategy of apologizing to Jack. When the meal was done and she washed hands while Rose poured water for her, Kim looked at the carriage with trepidation. Who knew how many days they'd be traveling and she already dreaded that tiny box on wheels. Boredom was foreboding.

 _Enough,_ Kim thought to herself, _enough with being a coward_. This was Jack, her friend. He usually was the one to get her no matter what. And clearly he was still willing to talk to her. So resolved, she walked quickly to where he was checking the harness on his horse. He instantly lifted his head when he heard her approach.

"Ugh, I can't take a whole day in the carriage. It's suffocating and uncomfortable," she started, feeling like a capricious spoiled lady but going with the moment, lest she lost her courage.

"We don't have a spare horse," his one visible brow rose in question.

Kim just shook her head, knowing how she could achieve relative confidentiality, "But I don't know how to ride one anyway. I mean," she corrected herself seeing his distrustful narrowed eyes, "I don't remember if I do or don't. But I am certain I can't ride in the carriage the whole way. I shall get nauseous."

"Then you shall have to ride with me on my horse," he responded with certain impertinence. "Aren't you afraid to fall off it?"

"Well, if you promise not to drop me. Last time you manage to gallop with me," she said with an element of judgement, recalling that he never apologized for that.

Jack smirked and before she could say anything more, she found herself sitting in the saddle. And the next second her back was pressed against a strong body. This was his answer to the problem and she was glad her plan worked. She turned to face him immediately and smiled wide.

"Settle down, you!" he groused, grabbing the reins. "This time you might fall despite the slow pace."

"I'm not worried. You'll catch me," she responded with confidence, settling in more comfortably in the circle of his arms. "Shall you teach me how to ride a horse?"

He huffed with put-upon air, grumbling about restless wives that wouldn't sit still. Of course, she couldn't have known that all this time he was smiling.

* * *

"Judging by you effort now, you must have been terrible at learning even before your lost your memories."

"And what makes you thinks so, huh?"

"Because somehow you haven't retained even the basic elementary skills."

"Well, maybe my parents didn't see the need for it."

"Didn't see the need in horseback riding? That is very peculiar. And why have they thought you'd make a good bride for an Anglo-Saxon lord when you can't ride a horse? I mean, I don't know about the continent, but here it's a required skill. You must have been hopeless."

"That's not true. I'm plenty talented and I learn quickly."

"I am looking at how you constantly pull the reins of the horse, even though I told you to be gentle, and I doubt that you learn as quickly as you say."

"It's only because it is alive. Its a living being. It must think terrible things about me. Probably. And it keeps doing whatever it pleases."

This was the kind of dialogue that the squad leader of Cai Brewer's men - one Andrew Tailor - has heard on a regular basis. He was traveling a little ahead of the cortege as was his responsibility, but behind Jack Bruer. This time he simply turned sideways and, covering his mouth, allowed himself a noiseless laughter.

Andrew Tailor was old enough to have served the current Baron Brewer, father of Cai and Jack. He's seen plenty of battles and managed to rise in ranks from the mere crew member to a knight. He was given a small living, nothing more than a large farm, but it was enough to lift his family out of poverty. He managed to give dowry to all his sisters and could comfortably start looking for a bride of his own. However, his lord called him to stay on with the firstborn son. Even though all matters of clan's defense were taken by the second son, Cai still needed his own protection. And while Andrew served under Cai, he learned why his lord asked him of this service. The young master was cruel, avaricious, and ambitious man. It made for a dangerous combination. So, Andrew did what he could to make sure the young master lived long enough to become wiser.

And then Cai gave him orders to accompany the second son and his wife to Torquay and Andrew felt great unease. Not one for idle gossip, he viewed all information about the Jack Bruer as field intelligence. And what he heard was not good. All of the stories were about his savage cruelty. Those were circulating the Devon almost all the time, but each visit to see his father and brother, new and more horrifying rumors were shared by people, who supposedly saw everything with their own eyes. This time it was the story of him single-handedly torturing the men who attacked the French chevalier and his family. Supposedly he tore their tongues and gouged eyes for not giving him the answers he needed. And when he was done with them he put them on spikes along the main road so others would know and avoid the Devon forest. And if these stories were true, what could he - a mere knight - do to stop the lord's cruel son if he decided to wreck havoc?

But to his and all of Cai Bruer's men's immense surprise, Jack Bruer was a relatively calm and reasonable young man, absolutely indifferent to the various frivolous pursuits that many rich men's sons liked to engage when bored and knowing they'd be unpunished. And, incidentally, he was also patient. Considering how he treated his restless and curios wife, who more resembled a child than a proper lady. Lady Isabelle was also quite a well known lady. Everyone in Devon heard her story. The lady was meant to be married into the Marshal family, but somehow it didn't happen. Some gloated that she didn't get to be the wife of the firstborn son and an heir. Most pitied the poor soul: she must have been very unfortunate to become the wife of the Wolf.

And yet, observing their interactions, Andrew only was surprised. Lady Isabelle, instead of being rightfully very upset and crying nonstop about her ruined life while avoiding her fearful husband at every opportunity, was treating him as a friend and kindest person known to her. She refused to ride the carriage the whole day and spent a lot of time with her husband riding horseback with him. And even demanded riding lessons from him. Which often led to the harmless bickering between them.

It was curious, Andrew observed, as he watched the bickering couple of newlyweds. Maybe everything was much simpler? They acted as if they were truly friends and they bickered as if they were married for at least 10 years. And there were rumors that she ran away when her cortege was ambushed because she didn't want to marry Francis Marshal. And Jack Bruer was the one to find her pilfered belongings of her family? And stayed in York long past the time needed to return the stolen goods? And what was he supposed to make of all these incongruities?

And, Lady Isabelle was different from all noble-born ladies he'd ever met. She wasn't demanding; liked to talk even in her broken version of Anglo-Saxon; was very energetic; and, in general, she reminded him of his own sisters than young ladies. She seemed to enjoy the trip; she smiled to her husband; talked to servants during breaks; and even tried to befriend him. As it turned out, she was easy to talk to, because she was curious about everything and was always in good humor. She disregarded the social status when she spoke to people and would poke fun at herself. She treated people like her equals, but he could not quite forget their different status because the piercing eyes of the Wolf - the second Bruer son and Lady Isabelle's husband - always followed her. Those eyes, those terrible eyes that pinned you to the ground and paralyzed thoughts in your head, were the only confirmation of the monstrous nature of the baron's son.

Andrew would not cross this young man. Andrew would not cross this young lady for where she went, the Wolf followed.


	10. Chapter 10

"And you still haven't learned to mount on the horse yourself. I even have to help you dismount."

"As if. I know how to do both of those things. It's just, who else can claim that a lord's son carries them in his arms every day?"

"You are an impertinent girl!" Jack Bruer's voice was full of admiration, while suppressing a smile. Despite his own mock lamentations that Isabelle was a burden since someone had to keep an eye on her all the time, he would never trade these moments for the solitary living in Devon castle. It didn't matter how much he huffed - he liked it. Liked to hold her small and fragile body in his arms. Liked the now familiar feeling of her warm palms on his shoulders, when he helped her dismount. It was an illusion of hugs that he saw other people exchange, but that were unavailable to him. But this way he could dream a little. Especially when Isabelle gave him so much warmth in these past days, more than anyone ever given him in his entire life. He didn't remember his mother very much, didn't remember her before her madness, so he couldn't say he knew familial warmth at all. It was as if the knife in mother's hands cut not only his face, but all the memories of before.

But he didn't want to think on that at this moment. Not with Isabelle near him.

If only because he never laughed as much as he did in the last couple of days. Isabelle was unlike anybody else. He never knew what she would do or say next. She could stay silent, taking things in, her bright eyes wide, and then would comment in such a funny way that people around them didn't know whether to laugh or shrug. Like her comment that roads should be made of stone, sand and tar to make them smoother than the polished cobble stone. Or how she could still stumble on the flat surface and blame it on long skirts, as if she hadn't had a lifetime to learn to walk in those. And if he did vocalize such things, she'd pout and get a guilty look on her face and then would avoid him for a while. But even when she was cross with him, she was always warm towards him.

The first time they rode together, she started a very stilted conversation about _his_ expectations from their union. He almost forgot years of horse-riding experience and nearly fell off the animal. She began, as was her usual style, very directly, but clearly lost her courage by the end of her first sentence.

"I know what your brother said was crude, but is there an expectation of- con- consu- consummation? And what do you- expect of this- union?"

He could see the uneven blush that traveled from her cheeks to her neck and her ears were red. He didn't have to see her face to know how embarrassed she was. It was hardly appropriate that a lady spoke of such things, but Isabelle never care about that. He could at least alleviate her worries.

"Never fear, milady. I shall not impose myself and my attentions on you. We spent the night in one bed, it is sufficient for everyone to assume the- cons- the union is a real one," he avoided the hints at the act, which made Isabelle so uncomfortable.

She was quiet for a while and then finally spoke, "All right. What your brother said... I never wanted to slap someone so much. Please know that I don't think of you as others do."

"I know, milady. We are friends. It is enough. Believe me."

And it was. She was his friend. Probably the only one in this world.

Forever deprived of familial warmth and living among people who hated him, he treasured any and all morsels of care and normal, if indifferent, attitude. Ever since he was a child he quickly learned to discern a dislike of others towards him in order to protect himself from unnecessary pain and trauma. Then he grew up and became everyone's fear incarnate. It was for that reason he appreciated the relative politeness, even if stilted, from his peers like Lord and Lady Marshal. He never broke the rules of conduct with people like that. They might not have been sincere in their motives, but he was grateful even for the outward appearance of manners.

But with Isabelle... He didn't know what to think. He wasn't used to being treated like that. It was such a gift on its own that he promised that she would have as much freedom as was possible in her new position. Like her safety, it was something within his control. So he made sure that she didn't hurt herself or got into troubles because of her curiosity, but otherwise let her be. It was great that they left York and would bypass Devon castle altogether. In Torquay and in the country, among the villages and forests, his name alone would be her protection.

So far she enjoyed the trip, argued with him, stubbornly tried to master the impossibly difficult art of controlling a _live_ horse. He almost laughed out loud when he heard it the first time, but stopped himself lest he offended her. He joked that the only other method that didn't involve live things, would be a boat or a witch's broom. Isabelle gave him a look of consternation, mumbling to herself loud enough for him to hear about his previously concealed sense of humor, which wasn't even that funny. It made him smile, which caused a temporary paralysis in Rose.

Isabelle also tried to befriend everyone around her. He already knew of her affection towards Rose, but saw them exchange a strange palm slaps every time Rose mastered a new word in French. The palm slap was known as 'high-five,' and indicated a job well-done. If they stopped at villages, she played with peasant kids. Apparently, her level of Anglo-Saxon was enough to be understood by the little ones. They usually would dart away whenever Jack showed up, so it was a testament to how kind and warm Isabelle was, that all these kids would come and play with her despite his presence. Her strange hand gestures apparently included something called 'fist bump' and she exchanged it with kids after a well played game.

As if there were not enough people to bother, she even tried to talk to leader of Cai's men, Andrew Tailor, who was there to escort them. Jack could only compare her to the autumn sky, forever changing. Just when he thought was used to her, she would do or say something entirely unexpected.

Like how she knew the Beowulf poem and had the most interesting interpretation of it. It was about politics of feuding and a tale of warfare. And confronting one's own fears.

He only smiled at her, "I thought ladies wanted to hear love poems."

"They do, but epic tales have everything in them, including love."

"And do you know many such epic tales?" he teased, but she only nodded.

"Yes, I know a lot of stories."

Every night they had to stop for sleep, he would let her have the bed and make a cot of his own cloak near the doors. The first time it happened, she insisted that he, too, sleep on the bed, trusting him enough. But Jack was used to sleeping on any surface no matter how cold or hard. So he told her not to worry about his comfort: this way he would be the first line of defense if necessary. She sighed dramatically, but was too tired to argue.

But sleep didn't come as easily as he hoped. So, when she spoke, he welcomed it.

"Do you want to hear a story?"

He did. And so she told him a story of someone named Gilgamesh. It was truly an epic tale and she told it with such spirit, her voice rising and falling as the story went and he was mesmerized. To think that it was all for him. He didn't remember when he fell asleep.

Next morning he was up first and after quickly dressing he waited for her to wake. When she did, he was mesmerized again to see how her eyes brightened up upon recognizing him and her lips pulling into a wide smile. This was a better sight than a sunrise. It was good thing they had to be so close to each other during travel. He wished the trip would last forever.

He shook off the selfish thoughts. Soon they would arrive at Torquay and he would have to make sure to protect Isabelle in that place, where everyone still hated him. Her family threw her out just like his own family did. No one would care if something happened to her. Only he did. Only he could ensure her safety. His Isabelle, his friend, his wife.

* * *

Kim was looking at the small notebook made of parchment pages and bound in leather. It was Jack's personal notebook, where he put his notes from when he learned French and Latin. For each new word, he'd put a corresponding one in Anglo-Saxon. It was essentially a dictionary. He gave it to her one evening after observing her attempts to learn the local language from Rose. She studied it with curiosity and appreciation. It was a priceless gift to her: not only because it was so useful, but also because it was a gift of something personal from Jack. It was valuable because it showed his affection and trust.

She quickly hid it among her treasures and arranged her hair in loose braid for the night. As per their habit, Jack made a place for himself near the door for protection. She stopped arguing with him, trusting his years of experience, although she wondered the sort of life he led, where attacks at night were a norm. Every night since the first one, she'd wait a little and begin a new story for him. Anything that came to mind. It seemed that anything was of interest to him. He never asked for a story, but Kim saw the anticipation in his eyes and tried to please him, even when she was tired.

It was so easy to please him, she found. Easy smiles, normal attitude, even just decent manners made the man appreciate them like it was a king's favor. She couldn't understand people's attitude towards him. Some feared him because of rumors, some wouldn't dare to look into his face. Knowing all the rumors and the superstitious times she ended up, she still couldn't understand why people wouldn't look into his face. He was a good looking man. No matter which time frame. So why others didn't see it? He responded so easily to a kind attitude towards him, so why no one noticed it? People preferred to believe the rumors, even the most ridiculous ones. Which was incongruent with his attempts to please her, like right now with the gift of the dictionary. He did it so nonchalantly. At least he attempted to. She'd never reveal how cute he looked when he was flustered. And his immense patience with her when she complained about things or when he repeated again and again the basics of horse-riding? She actually lost any hope of learning this essential skill. She was irrationally afraid of being atop of the large animal with its own will. But Jack seemingly had no limits with his patience. And if it meant that she spent a lot of time with his arms around her, then she wouldn't be confessing any time soon.

She wished the trip would last forever. No one expected her to act the lady when in travel and she enjoyed the camaraderie that their entire traveling party developed. She didn't want to be indoors again doing something she was even worse at than riding - something like embroidery.

However, all things come to end. Among the smiles, laughter, stories, lessons and conversations they have arrived at Devon border.

"Here it is, Torquay. The land of my mother's family that became my father's." They were atop of the hill, looking at the town laying in the valley leading to the seashore. It was an interesting sight. Kim couldn't tell the difference in size between Torquay and York, but this town was on the seaside and she could see the boats in the water. Maybe it was smaller, but it didn't matter. It is to become her new home.

"What sort of place is Torquay?" she asked gently.

Jack stared into mid-distance. His face reflected great struggle and sorrow. She didn't know, but he struggled how to put into words that despite the years that passed he still could smell the blood, his and the wolves; could still taste its salty flavor; could feel his skin being rendered under the sharp claws; could feel hunger sawing his stomach; could taste the old food and water that had the moldy taste; could hear curses and shouts; could see his mother's crazed eyes...

Kim saw the pain, the determination, the sorrow, the resolute desire to survive. It pierced her soul to see this strong man and see his pain.

"I am glad you survived," she whispered and wrapped her fingers over his that held the reins in white-knuckled grip. "Don't blame yourself for any of it. It is not shameful to want to live. Besides," she said in a different tone and turning to look at him. "You aren't alone now. It's not as scary when you have someone with you."

"It's true: I believe I would be too worried about you to be properly afraid of anything," he grumbled, but his expression was no longer pained and she counted it as victory.

* * *

Torquay was far away from the any central cities of the Kingdom, but it was still a largish town. Mostly because it was a seaport and had a brusque trade. Here was the former seat of the previously strong Usher clan. They had been here since the Norman invasion and were good rulers. William the Conqueror favored the Ushers and the sea port made it a happening place. So it wasn't exactly a provincial dump. As any large town it had a central avenue that was teaming with all sort of folks. Some had business to do, some merely were sight-seeing, some were showing themselves off, some were here to spend money.

And there was a lot of things to spend the money on. Multiple merchants came here, offering their goods - both locally made and brought from across the seas. There were fabrics of multiple textures and colors, so beautiful, they could make any head spin. There were foodstuffs stalls. Nearby was a jeweler's stand where a group of young women gathered, laughing and checking out hairpins and brooches and looking around. Here one could buy pottery of any kind with patterns and not, other household items, shoes, colorful threads and beads that shone in the sun like precious jewels... It probably was easier to name what wasn't sold here.

There was difference from the York market, though. There were plenty of people of the old faith. Druid teachings have been replaced, but there were hamlets and glens where the old beliefs intertwined with the new and one could find such wise men here in Torquay. People, peasants, fishermen hedged their bets and prayed in church just as often as they sought advice of such wise men.

However, there was one place more popular than any merchant's stall or any wise man's offers. Sitting at the roughly polished ling table, filled with various pots and jars was a relatively young woman. She wasn't exactly comely, but she was popular. All available sitting around her was taken. Some were even sitting on the ground. These were all men, mostly peasants and fishermen, and all their attention was focused on the largish man holding a cup and talking.

"So I tell her: 'won't you serve me some more ale? I am cold and tired.' But she only smiles and says: 'I am just a single young woman. I don't have ale, but I recently got some cider to make vinegar. Where did I put it?' She starts looking, turning this way and that, bending low. And let me tell you, the collar on her dress was low..."

"Tell us more. What happened after?" came the impatient cries when the man stopped.

"Wait, wait. Need to soothe my parched throat," he said looking into the cup, but it was empty. "Won't you serve me some more, pretty one?"

"No way," the young woman responded tartly. "You still owe me for the last time. Pay first either with coin or in kind. I don't care for your stories. Even that forest brother is a better story-teller than you."

"Yah!" the forest brother, one of those wise men inhabiting this land, jumped from being called out. He was a small old man, his beard reminded that of a goat and his too large clothes made him look even smaller. "My dearest Mabel, how can you call me a mere forest brother? I can read runes and stars to predict future. I have learned with the last Druid priest and I can show you-"

"See, I told you his stories are better," Mabel interrupted the old man, idly watching the scene before her. "However, you too won't be getting free ale. Although, why would you need it if you know the secrets of the stars? Shouldn't you be sober for that?"

"You, a simpleton woman cannot know how to do what I do."

"I know that you like to confuse people with your predictions," she retorted to the amusement of the crowd.

"That's not true! I can prove it! See, I can read my own future right now. Where are my runes?" the old man was offended and tried to sway the opinion of the crowd. He opened his leather bag and got a smaller pouch of polished stones. "See, I can tell my own future. Just let me pull the runes and they'll reveal what would be my fate. And if I am right, then you'll forgive my previous debt."

With that the forest brother took the pouch and pulled the three runes out. Everyone forgot the large sailor who was telling the story of the young woman and her vinegar and watched in amusement at the wise man's manipulations. Most people at the market knew him: he was a harmless drunkard, who'd sell his tales of runes and stars and all his money was spent here on Mabel's ale. No one particularly believed his tales and his fortune telling, but it was engaging to see him trade insults with Mabel.

The wise man got ready to throw runes on the ground, mumbling, "Now, we shall know my fate..."

Bu the fate proved to be difficult to read as the runes skipped off the ground and rolled down a gentle slope right to the middle of the street under the feet of the milling crowd. Wailing at the inconvenience and followed by the laughter of the drinking public, the wise man chased the runes trying to stop their merry skipping. Finally he got a hold of all three and, ignoring the shoves of the pedestrians, turned to Mabel and waved his hand with runes.

"My runes say that my life will hang by a thread and only the interference of the Heaven's messenger will save me," he began saying it loudly, but finished with the startled, "What is this?"

While the wise man contemplated the strange rune combination he barely paid attention to what was happening around him. To his own detriment. Somewhere in the distance cries of fear and woe could be heard and, like an avalanche, they traveled down the main avenue and grew in tenor into one noise wave. People were running away, pushing and shoving the wise man, still stuck in the middle of the street. He got turned around couple of times before he finally noticed the clamor and tried to understand why the previously full street became suddenly like a desert.

This was when he heard the sounds of the horse hoofs on the ground and, taking a sharp turn around, he discovered that was face to face with a horse. Slowly, ever so slowly, he lifted his eyes, fully expecting a reprimand from some well off man, and found himself looking into the wintry-cold hooded eyes. He stood in front of - he was blocking - the Wolf himself. In complete silence that spread like magic over everyone in the street the horse snorted straight into the nose of the wise man and he fell onto his rear end.

While the poor student of Druid teachings said farewell to his life, everyone else who was witness to his fall tried to get a better look at the most amazing sight ever. Usually the Wolf ( _his life should have ended when his cursed mother's did!_ ) galloped down the street like a black storm, smashing things in his path. Every one knew that he hated when people looked at his ugly disfigured dace, which he always hid behind the mask and long hair. But today must have been the day that Hell froze over, because everything was different.

The Wolf, the cursed second son, came with a large cortege, when he usually came with just his crew. The fact that his cortege was so large made everyone think that even Yorkshire lord was afraid of the Wolf and wanted to make sure he was gone to his lair.

But despite the fear that the cursed one caused in everyone, making them freeze where they were, an irrepressible whisper spread in the crowd sharing the unusual news.

In the saddle, before the Wolf, sat a young woman - a girl really - dressed in rich clothes of the lady. Most amazingly, her hair was partly put away in a bun covered by a netted cap, letting everyone know that she was a married woman. Could it be that this demon had stolen someone's wife? But she wasn't restrained, her arms were free... Was she the demon's wife? Has he married? Who would willingly give their blood relation to this monster?

However, the very young woman looked fully alive, unhurt, unafraid, with no tear tracks, and didn't try to break away from the arms that held her. Moreover, she seemed curious and looked around everywhere. She turned her head one more time and finally saw the wise man.

"Ohhh," she said, putting one hand to her cheek and opening her eyes wide. "It looks like a sea storm tore through here. And how often does this happen? Do they all behave like this every time? I mean, they kicked up so much dust... I can't imagine the amount of laundry that needs to be done..."

Behind Master Jack Bruer, the head of the armed men dropped the reins, covered his face with both hands and, seemingly, started crying. The Wolf himself only allowed a twitch of the mouth, turned his head to the side and looked around, finally moving his monstrous eyes away from the poor wise man on the ground. It would seem that no one was getting hurt by his hand today.

The horse, tired of standing in the same spot, shuffled the feet and it woke the wise man from his paralysis. He began to slowly scoot from the path on his butt, still keeping the possible instrument of his death in sight, as if it was a poisonous snake ready to strike. But he needn't have to worry. The Torquay Master forgot about the man on the ground as if he were no more than a bug. He touched the reins and the horse began its slow progress. A little later everyone could hear the young woman talking, pointing to various wares that caught her eye.

But people came out of the hiding only when the last of the carts with luggage finally passed through. Many gave silent or not so silent thanks to god for protecting them from the wrath of the Wolf, but most crowded the corner where Mabel sat with her ale to fortify their shaken spirits. She didn't seem to mind and gave her ale to any and all. And helped herself to a cup. Then she took the bottle sealed with wax, opened it and climbed over the bench to sit next to the wise man. He still was on the ground, occasionally patting himself and mumbling, "I am alive. I am alive."

Mabel gave the man a large cup filled with alcohol, "Hey, you, wise man. Maybe you can tell me my future? Will I marry?"


	11. Chapter 11

Isabelle was obviously upset. And a little angry. Fine, maybe she was more than a little angry. And Jack couldn't understand why. Usually, she was so smiley and in good mood. Except for a couple of occasions: like, when she decided to attack baron's son for being rude to her maid; or when she wanted to scold Jack himself for galloping in the streets back when they first met. But what had made her upset now? To him it was all part of the normal course of events. It was like this always and everywhere. In Torquay people usually waited until his back was to them before they cursed him or said prayers to whatever deities they favored for protecting them from him as if he was the black death itself. Maybe someone looked at her the wrong way, insulting her in some fashion? It had to have been a look alone, because the whole way to the former Usher manor people, who cowered before them, didn't say a word.

Jack rode slowly down the main street, giving Isabelle the opportunity to take her fill and satisfy her unbridled curiosity. However, he didn't quite count on his own traitorous memory and heart. Apparently, two years without a visit here didn't take the edge off his nightmares, made more vivid by the familiar sights. And none of the memories made in Devon, where he was the shield and the sword of the Bruer clan, were enough to blunt the pain and misery that threatened to engulf him. The only thing keeping him from plunging into his own despair was the warm palm that rested on his right hand, which in turn held Isabelle's waist. And he held on to the little hand, almost kid like next to his own, as if he was drowning. And he managed - barely - to see colors of the world around him, instead of darkness, to sense the scent of dried herbs, instead of the metal of the blood and the mold of the rot, to feel like a man and not the incarnation of the curse and bad omen.

There was only time in his memory when he didn't feel alone in this world. It was his birthday, which he typically ignored, but Hrodolph, the martial arts instructor and a stern teacher to Jack, always reminded him of the day by giving him each year a new mask. A mask meant to hide his disfigurement, his shame and his curse. As much as it hid all that, the mask also was a reminder of who, rather what, he was in the eyes of the world. But that day, two years since, he noticed his father's face in the window looking down on them. That day his heart, human and frail, came alive with a new hope for a family. That was still one of the better memories of his life.

And yet, now, today, Isabelle was with him. She wasn't hiding on the second floor, behind the glass and curtains. She was next to him, holding his hand. How was it that this petite and fragile girl, who probably wouldn't be able to defend herself, gave him strength? And never judged him by his mask. And somehow he could trust her with his pain and his shame: trust that she didn't think less of him because of it. Somehow she understood. Intertwining their fingers, so tight that nothing could undo them, he fought with himself not to squeeze her hand even tighter. And she felt it too: she squeezed his hand instead.

Now that the panic, induced by awful memories, has lifted he could breathe better. She was with him; everything was fine. If she was mad at someone and thought they needed scolding, then so be it. They were not in the castles of York and Devon: she could do so without punishment. Let her do her justice.

* * *

"I should order all the stuff for the Torquay manor from somewhere else. And not spend a single penny here. It would teach them not to be judgmental," Kim was talking quietly to herself, huffing every now and then in consternation.

She didn't like this town right now. Not that in York she had a chance to learn and love it, but there Jack was a guest. A high-born one and somehow, probably because he was away from his crazy family, he was almost relaxed. Not that he wasn't ready to fight, but rather he was not expecting mental attacks from people. Here, in Torquay, Jack was noticeably alert and strangely tense. And it began the moment they descended that hill and entered the town.

The sight of people running away from them didn't surprise her. She could understand that, given her own first meeting with Jack. It was almost the same setting. It would have been fine, but she felt the moment her friend, who during the entire trip was chill, poked fun at her, and even smiled on occasion, suddenly turned into a statute of himself: hard, harsh, implacable. The change was almost instantaneous. She didn't even have to look to know that his face was impassive and his eyes - cold.

Only his gentle touches remained the same. And then he grabbed her palm with his free hand like a lifeline and didn't let go for the rest of the trip.

Kim sighed. One didn't have to be a psychology major to understand what was going on. In fact, she didn't recall any specifics about Jack's childhood: he was remarkably tight-lipped, but sometimes he let slip some unhappy details and then would immediately clamp down. Perhaps he didn't want to scare her or didn't want her pity. She judged mostly by his tone, the way he spoke of things, what he considered normal. Coupled with the known facts of his story and she thought she had a good idea about his unfortunate childhood. It was no surprise that he hated this place. So, put in this light, it was understandable that she didn't feel charitable towards people of Torquay, who were afraid of the Wolf. They did everything in their power to make him who he was now. She was right when she spoke of Beowulf: we make our own monsters sometimes. Although, she'd never agree that Jack was a monster. She recalled her father speaking of the Baron Bruer. The strong leader, powerful lord, pious man, Crusader, supporter of Richard the Lionheart. Or was he also part of the coup by the future King John? She couldn't remember. Not that it mattered: obviously the man lived through the rein of both kings. He expanded his holdings and lands and passed it onto his son. Nothing indicated the hated man, who was cursed or cruel. Was it about Jack? Was it about his father? They were both confusingly called William. She couldn't recall if the man she heard about was scarred, but she could tell that Jack was strong. Yet she didn't see him as a man of politics or someone hungry for more power and land. Maybe it was it about his father.

Right now she didn't worry too much about what history said about which Bruer. She even didn't care what caused the Torquay people to fear Jack so much. She was more concerned about the mood of this man, who was her husband. How could she make him feel better? She leaned back a little in the saddle, firmly burrowing into his body, and put the second hand over their interlocked ones. Very soon they would have to observe the rules of conduct of this fairly patriarchal society that did not tolerate any familiarity and show of affection and she wouldn't have such freedom in public. She could already see the gates of the manor, where they would live.

* * *

It would seem that the general panic and clamor of the town reached this place as well. Multiple servants and other dwellers, usually occupied with work in the yard and who didn't have a chance to hide themselves, all lined against the walls looking fairly scared and barely breathing. They stood as far as they could, bowing low and often without looking in his eyes as if this would somehow make the problem disappear. It was childish, really. Why would the Wolf want to punish anyone? And if he wanted to, not looking at him wouldn't save them.

Jack snorted at the sight. Such an exemplary deference. Just few years ago these very people met him with disdainful smirks, contemptuous looks, and sometimes they would spit at his feet. The only change was in him: he grew up and learned how to cause fear in people. His snort was more at the silliness of these people. Besides, he didn't care about servants - he needed to find the remaining members of his family. While his hateful uncle was gone, there was the cadet branch of the Ushers, through some Great Aunt of his, who took care of the barony while Jack was away. They, the dear relatives of his, were the worst purveyors of hate towards the Wolf. Only in their case it was with added benefit of wanting to see him dead, so they could claim the inheritance. It was them, dear Aunt Leona, her husband Robert, and their son Robert Junior, that tried to poison him before. Unfortunately for Aunt Leona, she only had granddaughters and they could not inherit just yet. There was even an attempt to seduce Jack into marriage with one of those granddaughters, but the girl was petrified to be in the same room as Jack, let alone try anything intimate. It was those relatives that Jack was wary of.

He stopped the horse in the middle of the yard, dismounted and carefully lifted Isabelle in a usual manner. It reminded him of her remark about being carried by the lord's son, and he held onto her a little longer, savoring the moment and the memory. He already missed the carefree days of travel filled with smiles and humor, when they were isolated from the world that hated him. He exhaled and his hands slid down her arms, feeling the fleeting warmth of the skin. Then he looked up to see that the large yard was filling with people and tried to locate one specific person. Who was already hurrying towards them from the main house and wringing his hands in agitation.

"Welcome, my lord," the man mumbled with a deep bow and a smile, which was supposed to be pleasant, but failed to be so - his lips kept trembling and the smile was lopsided every now and then. "B-but we h-have not expected you here. At all. Mistress Leona is visiting the monastery and Master Robert went hunting yesterday. If only you had sent a message that you were coming back..."

Jack was not impressed and didn't even let the steward finish. "Isabelle, this is the steward of the estate Philip Burger. Somewhere here should be the housekeeper Mrs. Joan Malone," it was all delivered in a very dry and efficient tone. The steward bowed slightly. Only then did Jack look the man in the eye. "My wife, Lady Isabelle needs rest from the travel."

Hearing this news made Mr. Burger's eyes go completely round and he stared - quite impolitely - at Isabelle and positively bleated out, "L-let me con-congratulate you, mi...lady... Only... Only we haven't thought... Didn't plan for... a lady... a wife... chambers for Lady Bruer... Mistress isn't here... And Master is hunting..."

"Then, she will stay in my chambers," Jack spoke in his Master voice, which prevented any arguments. After this pronouncement he lost interest in the still trembling steward. He turned to Isabelle, found her hand and squeezed her fingers once to show that everything would be alright. Then he looked at the crowd of servants and peasants and motioned to two young girls, who stood frozen, judging them to be the cleanest and neatest of the bunch.

He narrowed his eyes at them and ordered, "You two would work directly for Lady Isabelle. Here is her personal maid, Rose. You will work together."

Both girls dropped whatever was in their hands, lowered their heads and shook like leaves in the wind, while the steward began complaining.

"Sir, Master Jack, they are just village girls, barely fit for a kitchen. They don't know anything," he wailed and fluttered his hands.

"So they will learn. Or are they without any understanding? I can't just take away maids from dear Aunt Leona, can I? You two, don't just stand there. Go and help your Mistress and Rose."

Jack looked at Isabelle and his eyes softened seeing her troubled face, when the newly promoted maids rushed to her side. "You can go now. Don't worry about anything."

Isabelle gave him a small nod and with new determination followed the girls, that ran ahead of her and showed the way. Rose and couple of his men servants followed with luggage.

Jack followed Isabelle's progress until she was inside and turned to Philip Burger.

"I shall... I shall inform the cook to prepare a meal," the man began speaking fast and almost moved towards the kitchen when he was stopped by a firm and painful hold on his shoulder.

"You do that. But if after this meal my wife feels even a little bit unwell, I will personally drown you in the cesspool," Jack said it almost kindly, which only made his threat scarier. He decided to make a preventive strike, so that the servants knew who this new person was and what he was willing to do for her safety. His dear Aunty Leona knew about the marriage and Jack's return to Torquay. Otherwise why were they all conveniently gone from the Manor? Of course, the only reason was to show him one more time just how little they thought of him, the bastard. And Isabelle's rooms were not prepared for the same reason even though the messenger was sent to them the moment the marriage was arranged.

Actually, it was better this way. He would sleep better if Isabelle was near him so he could keep an eye on her at all times. And somewhere deep in his soul he was selfishly glad for this confluence of events, which his dearest relatives created. This way he didn't have to part with Isabelle. Of course, it was hardly acceptable. Even commoners with some means tried to keep separate rooms from their wives, copying the nobles, so it was only expected of the baron's son. But here was another benefit of his notoriety: he could do anything and no one would dare to question him. Jack gave another kind smile, which sacred steward Philip into a stupor, and went to speak to Andrew Tailor.

* * *

Kim followed the constantly bowing girls, who led her to Jack's quarters. She decided not to interfere in the 'family' matters, letting Jack deal with her situation here. Although she fully understood how insulting was the attitude of the Usher clan towards the second son of Baron Bruer. She didn't even want to imagine how badly they treated him before he became the dreaded Wolf. Of course, she had no plan to tolerate such behavior. This exile was a demotion as far as Jack was concerned. He was in charge of defense and had full command of the men in service of his father. His position demanded respect at the very least. And now he was back to the place where people never respected him, only feared. She was the only one who cared about him now.

Meanwhile she merely looked around, familiarizing herself with the new place. The girls have politely opened the doors leading to the left wing of the manor, which was farthest from the main hall and probably the reason for it being Jack's quarters. The rooms were clean and spacious, although it was obvious that these rooms were not lived-in and looked spartan. There were no mirrors or decorative pieces. Slowly walking around all the rooms Kim contemplated the barrenness of her surroundings and, biting the lip in thought, she turned to the new maids. Both of them were very anxious obviously unused to being so close to someone so highly positioned. They needed to break out of this shyness.

"What are your names?" she knew enough of Anglo-Saxon now to ask the simple question. She copied the style of Lady Marshal, softening the aloofness with a small smile.

"I am Lily, and this is my sister Mary," the taller of the girls spoke, both of them lifting their head in unsure manner.

"Marvelous," Kim clapped her hands and turned to Rose. "Help me talk to them, Rose. Now, we need to re-do everything here. Change the curtains, bring some fresh flowers, air the whole place. And, please, find me a mirror. I feel like I am inside the tomb."

She stepped outside and could hear the rapid chatter of Rose, who clearly felt herself more sophisticated as she spoke French and knew Lady Isabelle Bruer closely. The work began in earnest now. Kim tried to get these rooms into some semblance of home before Jack made his way here. She didn't know where he was planning to sleep in the night since he gave her his own rooms so easily, but she was planning to drag him back here if necessary. She couldn't let him be left alone there just because he had some noble notions. She'd have to be persuasive.

Closer to the end of the day, with all hands on deck, her and Jack's belongings were put in their places. Kim decided that the rooms were acceptable for human habitation and were upgraded from 'the tomb' to simply 'austere' as the style went. Then she asked to be taken to kitchens. Lily and Mary exchanged the fearful glances and stared at their new mistress with mute horror. They were already looking at her with some mixture of anxiety and trepidation - probably because she was giving orders and changing things in the Wolf's rooms as if she wasn't afraid of him at all. She could see it in their eyes: she gave them a very strange order. She knew it was hardly decent for a noble lady to go to the service rooms, like kitchen. Maybe she could pretend it was the fashion on the continent?

When the new wife of Master Jack Bruer showed up at the kitchen she caused a massive commotion. Kim watched with interest as pots and pans fell and clattered and feathers flew everywhere as people were startled and tried to appear busy. Obviously servants were here to gossip about all the amazing news, especially about the new inhabitant of the manor. And here she was - the subject of all the lurid gossip herself. Kim smiled gently at them and politely, if in a stilted manner, requested a nice celebratory supper to be prepared. However, they all stood frozen showing no signs of hearing her request: they must have been too shocked by her appearance here. Who did they think she was? Was it that out of question for a lady to show up in the kitchens? Kim signed and decided to shock them out their shock.

"Oh well, I guess I have to cook the food myself," she said mildly and trying to roll up the sleeves of her dress that were long with embroidered cuffs.

The kitchen was shaken by another massive commotion. Everyone, every person in the large room, jumped and exclaimed showing their immediate desire to cook and serve the Mistress anything she wanted. Quite satisfied with the results, Kim nodded to her new maids and smiled. How little it took to make them all happy. In this particular instance, the kitchen workers didn't want the Wolf to see his noble wife doing the dirty job of cooking. Even if she was willing to do so, they didn't think the Wolf would appreciate it. She smiled again to herself: she certainly made an impression. At least the meals would be served on time from now on.

A little later, after taking in the dining table set up in the ante-chambers of their quarters, Kim went to look for her wayward husband.

* * *

Jack stood by the pond located in the back of the Manor. It was a calm evening and a slight breeze created very little waves on the surface of the water. He stood looking, but not seeing the beauty before him. Mentally, he was trying to articulate all the reasons why he and Isabelle should continue sharing rooms. However, his thoughts were scattered at the thought of the young woman's face once he found her. He could see it vividly: bright eyes looking at him in surprise, brows raising at his audacity, mouth opening to retort... She'd say-

"My lord."

Jack blinked in surprise. Her voice came out so clear. He turned to find her standing there. She looked stern.

"What are you doing here? Looking for a place to make a nest for yourself on the shores of this pond? I believe only ducks would find this an acceptable place and you are a man."

"Indeed," he mumbled, lost for words. However, the young woman simply took his hand and started walking towards the entrance to the left wing, where his - and now hers - living quarters were. Although he used them to crash at nights for restless sleep and preferring to spend his days away from the hateful inhabitants of the manor. At first, because he had to; later, because he got used to doing so. And now he was back here.

But when they got in he had to wonder if Isabelle made a mistake and took him somewhere else. The rooms didn't look like anything he remembered. They were completely transformed.

"What is all this?" he asked pointing at the nice spread on the dining table. It was obviously a more fancy supper than usual.

Isabelle smiled at last as she pushed him towards the table, "It is to celebrate our move. It's a housewarming meal."

"House-warming? What?"

"Housewarming is a celebration when a family moves to a new home, where they plan to live," her explanation was strange. "This sort of event has to be celebrated so the future family life is happy and smooth."

"Family?" Jack felt stupid just repeating words after her, but this word was what stuck out to him in her strange explanation.

"Of course. We are married, if you recall. That means we are family."

The simple phrase caused such a maelstrom of emotions, they crowded in his chest, making it hard to breathe. He didn't know what to think, let alone speak. Blinking away sudden burning sensation in his eyes he tried to say something - anything- to this girl, who yet again managed to stupefy him.

"Thank you," he whispered in a scratchy voice, but how could mere words convey the depth of his appreciation, reflect all the emotions he felt right now?

So he did something that just came to his mind. He took her hand and pressed lips to her fingers, attempting to express all that was in his heart now.

A/N: in this story, Bobby is married to Leona, who is Jack's great aunt and still is prone to poisoning. Phil is a steward a d Joan is a housekeeper.


	12. Chapter 12

He and Isabelle ate their meal leisurely in the relative quiet, stealing glances at each other. The silence between them was surprisingly comfortable, cozy even, and no one wanted to break it with meaningless words and unnecessary motions. Himself, he was trying to get used to the notion of belonging somewhere, or rather with someone, a family. And Isabelle gave him time, looking at him with interest and almost concern. He slowly settled down, his internal turmoil quieting, replaced with an unusual contentment. Unfortunatelly, the maids, that came to replace the plates and bring drinks, didn't give them chance to enjoy their solitude for too long. Soon after, Jack left to get ready for the night and Isabelle and Rose were left with the new maid to instruct them on how to serve a lady as unique as Isabelle Bruer.

When Jack returned to the bed chamber, girls that were helping his wife to get ready for the night, darted out of the room like scared mice. Jack only grunted and gave one conspiratory smile to Isabelle, who was hiding her own smile behind hand. He could hardly believe he was in Torquay.

They were left alone in the bedrooms before, but those were the nights of travel, when necessity dictated their accommodations, but now... Now, Jack suddenly felt strangely flustered. Quickly banishing those anxious thoughts, he switched to finding a place for himself. Like, the chaise longue near the wall looked like it was suitable for sleep. It was almost fit for a king. He slept in places far worse.

"If you want, we can put up a screen here," he felt inspired to say, when he saw that Isabelle was looking at his movements. She shook her head in negation and climbed into the bed.

He extinguished all the candles, except for one, and made himself comfortable on the chaise lounge. Using his arm as pillow he waited, while Isabelle settled to begin her story. She always had a new one for him. Later, when she was asleep, he'd put his long knife so it was easy to grab and would take off the mask. He always woke up at dawn and Isabelle wouldn't see his disfigurement. He didn't want to chance her seeing his scarred face: he got used to her treating him like he was just a man around whom she could be her happy and cheerful self. He didn't want to see her cower away at the sight of his face without mask.

Soon enough she started a story.

* * *

That night Kim had a nice dream. She couldn't tell all the details, she just recalled the feeling of happiness. She was surrounded by softness and was with someone, who held her tight and she knew she cherished that person very much. This someone was warm and stroked her hair gently and she was melting in lazy satisfaction that made everything hazy. Her heart was bursting with the contentment and she stretched up to look at the person, but woke up before she could do so.

First thing she did upon waking was to search for Jack. Maybe he was trying to wake her up by touching her hair and her sleepy mind made up the dream? She blushed at the idea that she wanted him to touch her like that.

Like previous nights spent in travel, he was already awake and dressed and waited for her awakening with patience and certain restrained expectation. Kim didn't make him wait too long and smiled at him.

"Good morning, dear husband," she said like all the mornings. It was her way of teasing him and their situation.

She never knew someone who was so pleased to hear such simple words. Whether it was the humor or simply because she was pleased to see him, but he always smiled back in surprise and joy.

When they sat at the table, Kim barely waited for the maids to leave and looked at Jack. Today she was in such a good mood and wanted to tease him more. He was always so particular with what she ate. Always insisting on giving the best pieces to her that she wanted to return the favor. Taking a slice of bread, she buttered it and placed a piece of cheese and put it on his plate before he could finish his drink. Jack didn't acknowledge her move only spared her an indifferent look and ate the bread. And immediately there was another. And another after that. Kim's lips trembled with suppressed smile and downcast eyes hid laughter. Jack coughed, managed a somber and polite expression, and, mimicking her, put a piece of fruit on her plate.

Of course, Kim pretend not to notice it either, but then Jack's plate got another morsel. As did hers. So, in this fashion and in complete silence, barely holding laughter at this silly childish game they fed each other, completely forgetting about servants that stood outside the doors waiting for the end of this very long breakfast.

A little later, Jack went off to write a letter to his father, both to report of the safe arrival and to express gratitude for the arranged marriage. The letter would be passed to Andrew Tailor for personal delivery. Kim, on the other hand, went to inspect her trousseaux. She was so curious to know what sort of things were considered a necessity for a young woman to receive at marriage, especially a noble born. Looking at the rolls of fabrics of exquisite colors and quality, she realized that she never saw Jack in anything other than black. Even at their wedding he wore black, broken up by the white collar of the undershirt that peaked out a little. Perhaps, she should show herself to be a proper lord's wife and take care of her husband. She got giddy with anticipation and almost didn't notice an unfamiliar servant approach and bow to her.

"Lady Isabelle, Mistress wishes to see you."

Kim raised a brow in surprise. Which Mistress? As far as she knew, Jack's mother has died. Was it his Aunt, of whom she heard only that she had married several times? And wasn't she away? Or was it the widow of Jack's uncle? The last male Usher, who died relatively young and left no surviving children? She tired to recall what Jack told her about the woman. There was a child, a son, born when the uncle was away. Husband's death and then son's death, made the woman withdraw from the world. Kim nodded to the maid and followed her out of the store room.

She was brought to a completely separate dwelling, which was located in the back of the manor and separated from the main house by a garden. In front of it she saw servants milling about their business and looking at her with curiosity. Kim was getting used to this and these particular servants appeared very restrained compared to the footmen and maids of the main house, who openly stared at the young wife of the dreaded master.

The maid opened the doors of the guest house before Kim and bowed politely and then, with certain trepidation, stepped back. Kim's new maids stayed in the yard, looking unsure. Kim only sighed at the display. Oh well, better get on with the visit.

First thing that she noticed were the abundance of flowers and plants. She had never seen a room like this in this era. There were some flowers, but people didn't decorate with plants and flowers yet. So this room, filled with crude pots with live plants was highly unusual. Plants were everywhere, seemingly without rhyme or reason. All she could say was that all plants were plentiful and strange. It wasn't exactly ikebana or even a miniature garden.

Kim would have stood there with open mouth and studying all the natural splendor that made this room stand out so much. So it was quite surprising to meet the Mistress of this place. She was petite and slender woman and her face with refined features was still very attractive. She was dressed in a plain mourning black dress without any embroidery and her hair was put away in a simple bun, covered by a black lace. She looked youthful and all the flowers and plant around her reinforced the impression.

Kim bowed, without curtsey, sure at least that her status was officially higher than the widow of the former head of the clan.

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance. I am Isabelle Bruer," her words were extra polite since she stared at the lady in stupor before.

"Likewise. I am Lady Usher. The last one," the woman spoke cordially and approaching Kim in a graceful gait. She smiled and indicated to all the plants around them, "I tend to get lost in my pursuit. Please do not pay attention. I know my hobby surprises many people, but they are so beautiful, don't you think?"

Kim nodded along in surprise. This woman appeared perfect and Kim couldn't understand why Lady Usher lived alone and away from the main house. She was so poised: she had to be a better face of the family than the elderly Aunt Leona, who she knew was spiteful. Lady Usher continued to talk about her passion about gardening, which she brought indoor and talked on more general topics. Kim went along with the polite discourse, happy not to be gawked at or be asked about Jack in fearful whispers.

"Please forgive me, I can spend hours talking about my plants and flowers. I was told that you recently have married. To a young master, I believe?"

"Yes, I have married William Jacob Bruer," Kim answered with delay, unsure what to make of this strange question.

"Ah, yes, Baron Bruer has admirable children. But, William Jacob... I didn't think he was so grown already. How the time flies," Lady Usher ruefully shook her head. "So easy to forget its passage. And it flies even faster as you watch kids grow. Children are wonderful. You shall understand when you have children of your own. I wished I had more, but I only have one son. You would not believe what a smart little boy he is. And so affectionate. It is such a joy to be a mother of such a boy. It's impossible not to love him."

The lady kept talking, while Kim tried to recover from the shock. Poor woman was deluded. So, Kim just nodded along the mother's chatter. Pretty soon though, Lady Usher began looking around anxiously.

"But where is he? Why haven't I seen him today? He never leaves my sight..." Taking the hand of startled Kim, she looked directly in the eyes. "Have you seen my son?"

"Milady..."

"I know! I know! You! It was you!" Lady Usher stepped closer to Kim, instantaneously losing her ethereal appearance and turning into a middle-aged, mad woman, her eyes burning with accusation. "You took him! Give him back! Give me my son back!"

Kim was so surprised by the sudden turn, she didn't even show any resistance when Lady Usher came at her with fists. Kim was torn by the pity towards the woman, who was mad with loss. Fragile in appearance, the woman turned out to be quite strong and managed to topple Kim to the ground, who only tried to block and not retaliate against the woman so unwell. She tried to keep the blows to the minimum, managing to turn so her back was to the attacker, and clocked her head with bent arms. She didn't even call for help, intent on bearing the assault until this manic episode subsided.

In the periphery, among the cries of the insane woman, she heard a shout and the sound of breaking ceramics. A crazed woman was pushed away and she herself was pulled into a tight grip and carried off from this strange madhouse. Kim only managed to see as Lady Usher sat on the floor, waling in grief and wiping at tear with both hands, which made her look like small sad child. The maid was fluttering around her with a cup of water and a towel.

She was brought out to the yard and put back on her feet. Only now Kim breathed in relief and took a look at her savior. It was Jack, as if there were any surprises.

"Are you alright?" Jack asked her, holding her by the shoulders and turning her this way and that for closer inspection.

Kim nodded unsurely, "I am more upset than hurt."

"How did you end up here?" he asked very somberly.

"Oh well, I was told that Mistress wanted to meet me," she mumbled, trying to smooth the wrinkled dress and fixing her hair, which she suspected was looking like a nest of the particularly lazy bird. Jack heaved a heavy sigh and she rushed to explain. "She appeared so poised and polite in the beginning. I didn't event understand when she flipped out."

She saw him repeat quietly her last words. Ugh, she made such mistakes from time to time. Before she could explain herself, he spoke.

"Isabelle, you should not come here ever again. And no one can make you or order you to do so. Do you understand?"

"She is..."

"Insane. She was always like this, as far as I can remember. She is always looking for her dead son. You must simply stay away from her," he took her hand to lead her away. Kim wanted to ask him a question and even opened her mouth to speak, but winced at the sudden pain in the cheek.

"Oh!" she exclaimed without thought and pressed one palm to the stinging left cheek.

Jack turned abruptly and his eyes pierced her anew. This time it wasn't anger or cold predation that lit them up. Intense concern was palpable in his look and she almost felt sorry for worrying him. He let go of her hand and bent close to Kim's face, looking keenly. Carefully, he touched the injured cheek with tips of his fingers.

And Kim's stomach was suddenly assaulted with the butterflies. He touched her skin in such feather lightness, weightlessly moving across the skin, as if caressing it. She never felt anything like that before, but his nearness and touch were heady, making her feel like her thoughts were molasses and that time stretched to infinity. She didn't want it to end and she was afraid she'd throw up from the fluttering in the pit of the stomach.

She really shouldn't burden him with such little things like a possible bruise.

"I promise, I was only surprised and upset. It's just a small bruise. I am lucky that Lady Usher doesn't wear rings... Oh!" she literally bit her lips to make herself stop and looked at Jack with trepidation. She tried to soothe him and utterly failed. Who knew that she babbled when flustered by handsome masked men?

"I'll have to make sure you're never asked to come like this again," he spoke to himself angrily and looked back the servants in the yard. They all took a step back in unison and Kim would have giggled at this unexpectedly coordinated move. He turned back to her, his face was no longer angry, and sighed at her. "Do you have any poultices to help with bruises? I think I saw them pack something like herbs..."

"I didn't see anything like a creme or poultice. They probably need to be made fresh," Kim really felt awful for causing all this fuss. Too bad there wasn't arnica... "Do you have arnica here?"

Jack took her hand again and insistently pulled her after him, "We need to find a healer. We'll go to town. I don't trust the one who lives in the manor."

"What? Right now?" Kim was surprised.

"Right now. A young lady should no have any imperfections in her face or her body."

Somehow it sounded less like his preference for a beautiful and perfect woman and more like a commentary on his own face. Like he didn't want what happened to him, happen to her. In light of it, Kim only could follow the young man.

Jack marched down the street, having left the horse at the and of the main street. He walked quickly completely ignoring people, that moved away from him, creating a live corridor in front of him and looking after him when he passed. Of course they darted away, considering his determined and surly expression. He towed her after him, holding tight onto the wrist. Kim could only turned her head this way and that to take in all the sights, noticing all the shocked faces. This time she wasn't on top of the horse and she was curious.

She never was greeted in such fashion before. She observed with fascination how people acted like ants in the anthill that was disturbed. It all was so surreal and she barely noticed when Jack pushed her into the dimly lit store that smelled of dried herbs. The owner jumped somewhere from the back of the counter with surprising agility considering his age. He bowed low and asked about the purpose of the visit in a trembling voice.

"My wife needs your help," Jack bit out without further explanation.

"Oh... Please follow me, milady," the healer bowed again, visibly gulping. "Here, by the window where there is light."

Kim followed the man to the large and airy room, which served as the exam room for patients, where she was showed a seat and helped to it with much ceremony. The healer looked at the Wolf hanging in the doorway like a dark shadow and turned to Kim. She sighed.

"I need some ointment to help with bruising," she pointed to her left cheek.

The older man bent close to inspect, gave another quick disturbed glance at Jack and bowed again.

"I do have a very effective ointment. The best. It would take care of the swelling and the bruising would be hardly visible," he spoke very quickly and without waiting for the response, ran to the front room.

"Isabelle, I shall be right back. Please wait for me here and don't go looking for trouble? Understood?" came the surly voice of Jack, who up until this moment was acting like a dark silent shadow.

Kim only pouted in offence at this description of her actions. Jack left the exam room nearly scaring the healer into dropping the jar with the precious ointment, when they met in the hall.

"Here, milady," the healer gave her the small jar and an old hand mirror. "The best ointment. In a couple of days there will be no marks left." After watching Kim put the ointment on and then proceeded to fix some of the strands that fell out of the hairdo, the man hemmed and finally spoke again. "Please forgive me, milady, but allow me to give you an advice. You are so young and probably were raised in care and love... Unfortunately, our world is such that young women must marry and in their new homes they must follow their husband's rules. In this case the most important thing is... hmmm... to be obedient and respectful. Especially in the beginning so as to earn the good attitude of the new family."

"I wonder how this obedience and respectfulness would have helped me when Lady Usher decided that I stole her child," Kim groused still looking at herself in the clouded mirror, to make sure that the ointment wasn't gobbed up somewhere.

"Ahh... You saying that the mad Lady Usher did that to you? And not the Wo- Master?" the man was shocked.

"Jack? What does he have to do with this?" it was Kim's turn to be shocked.

She never, ever, entertained the idea that Jack could cause any physical injury to her, even when they first met and he plucked her on his horse. The supposition was so insane to her, she could not even fathom it.

"Please, please, forgive me, milady. Forgive this foolish old man," the healer pleaded in complete horror of his mistake and bowing like he wanted to touch the floor with his head. It was obvious he was terrified that Jack would learn of his indirect accusation of wife-beating. The slander was intolerable...

"Hmmm... Yes," Kim spoke mechanically to stop this obeisance by the old man. She still didn't know how to react to what she just heard. But more importantly, what would be Jack's reaction to hearing this latest slander. Now she definitely was going to wait for his return here. Jack brought her to town, without stopping to think that their hasty trip would mean more gossip. He was more concerned for her health. If anyone particularly eagle eyed noticed her bruising, then there would be no end to rumors. And what was going to do to comfort Jack, who didn't suspect that his 'legend' grew with fresh horrors? Ugh, this was so frustrating. He really needed a better PR management.

Somehow she didn't event think that someone would have to comfort the inhabitants of Torquay if she became the subject of malicious rumors and Jack took offense. Really, Kim could only care about so many things at one time.


	13. Chapter 13

Life was often full of paradoxes. For example, no one suspected it, but the notorious second Bruer son knew the Torquay market like the back of his hand. Almost all of it. At least the part that he considered useful. Like the healer's store, where he took Isabelle.

Jack was there before. Sometimes it was to get an ointment for wounds, or to learn about certain herbs since he didn't trust the healer used by the Usher family with his own health and well being. The old owner of the store was shaking in his boots whenever Jack made an appearance, but he had solid knowledge of his trade and, perhaps because of the animal fear he felt or because he was a decent man, he always served Jack with honesty. And kept silent about such visits. Once, when Jack read about a certai practice, which Hrodolph confirmed, he acquired a few most widely used poisons to train his body and build tolerance towards those. At the very least, Jack felt enough trust in the old healer to leave Isabelle with him alone without fear.

In the meantime, Jack quickly marched towards a small store, whose owner boasted that he brought the best cosmetics from all over the known world. Supposedly, their supplier was the same one that served the royal courts of the continent. At the very least they never had shortage of clients: everyone wanted the pallid pallor and bright lips. He himself preferred Isabelle's glowing looks, but he heard a few comments about her freckles that were a little too common to be seen on a high-born lady. Right now he was on the hunt for a whitening powder to help her hide the fresh bruise.

Upon entering the store, the newly returned Master of Torquay pointedly ignored the sudden deafening silence that descended upon the room when he appeared and walked straight to the suddenly pale owner.

"I need a whitening facial powder," he spoke in an even tone. To the credit of the respectable merchant, he was a consummate businessman and despite his own faintness (unlike some of his customer, who were near swoon) he managed to ask the 'esteemed master' about the particular shade of the powder required.

"Because, as your lordship should know, there are different shades among people's faces and I need to know which to match the required color. So you are pleased with the purchase."

Jack grunted and turned to look at the shopping crowd around the counter. "There. More or less like hers," Jack said casually and pointed at the young woman with rosy cheeks and the the same golden complexion as Isabelle. The woman in question paled considerably and swooned into the arms of her maid. The rest of the customers seemed to mentally fortify themselves: not all of them had maids to fall onto and the floor was hard and not exactly clean... Needless to say that Master Bruer was served in record time. Fainted and scared witless customers were hardly conducive to a good trade.

Jack veritably flew back to Isabelle's side. He was worried that his restless wife would get bored and decide to explore this market on her own. And where, then, would he have to look for her? However to his relief, she was still where he left her. But, to his surprise, she wasn't chatting amiably with the owner, which what he suspected she'd do, knowing her. Instead, she absent-mindedly looked through various medicines on the counter. Next to her, an agitated healer was hemming and hawing, unsure how to act. Upon seeing him, Isabelle smiled so wide and bright, it was as if the sun itself shone in the store. The healer retreated to the back with few more deep bows.

Jack, on the other hand, was stunned by this greeting and nearly dropped the box in his hand. Then he quickly shoved it into her hands so he wouldn't say something stupid.

"What is this?" she asked and curiously looked at the box. Quickly putting it on the counter, she pulled the thread that held it wrapped and opened the gift.

"I heard that ladies have such items with them. I wasn't sure if you had any packed, but this would help you cover the bruise while it heals," Jack mumbled still feeling stunned from the power of her smile. He had only seen smiles like this when he observed Cai's mother smile at her son on the occasion of high praise from their father. And right now Isabelle looked and smiled at him in the same fashion. But what was it that he had done to earn it? He only brought her some face powder so that people wouldn't stare at her like they did at him. Feeing flustered by the undeserved gratitude, he lowered his gaze to the floor, his cheeks burning. And then he heard her open the lid.

Only when he looked at her - she was immersed in the gift - did he realize his own shortsightedness. What an idiot he was. He should have anticipated that at some point Isabelle would be close to Lady Usher. After all it was one of many nightmares of his own childhood. When he found out from the servants where exactly his wayward wife had disappeared to, he was horrified. He ran to the cottage of his insane aunt as fast as he could. Ignoring the shouts of startled maids and the breaking of the pots that he pushed out of his way, Jack only saw one thing - Isabelle lying face down on the floor. Even now he felt the residual fear. He would never want anyone to experience what he had: the beatings, the cold closet he was held in, the hunger and thirst. The constant expectation of punishments because he wasn't the right person, the right child.

And Isabelle was so fragile and petite he could wrap her waist with just one arm. Of course, the multiple layers and full skirts hid her body well, but the delicate neck peeking from the collar of the dress and the barely visible row of bones of the spine when she bent her head only drove the impression of her daintiness. He had plenty of time to notice it when he sat behind her in the saddle so close that if he only inclined his head he would have been able to reach the back of her head with his lips...

Jack shuddered and silently gasped when he realized where his thoughts wandered to...

He shook his head and tried to refocus on the present. They needed to go back to the manor. He still didn't know if the morning incident was an accident or someone's malevolent plan. At any rate, he wouldn't allow something like to happen again. He wasn't willing to make Isabelle a target. It was time they ended this war between him and the Ushers.

People talked and stared and darted away, but Isabelle didn't seem to mind. She looked pleased with the trip and the gift. She walked next to Jack, holding his hand, which wasn't done in public, but right now he didn't care what others thought of them.

"My lord!" a maid from the manor ran up to them. "Master Robert is back and desires to see you."

 _How fortuitous! Ask and ye shall receive,_ Jack thought, How timely his relative decided to return and seek Jack out! In this their wishes were the same.

* * *

Judging by the flaring of his nostrils and an almost imperceptible smirk of anticipation, Kim figured that he was planning to read his relatives a riot act. She wanted to be there to meet these mysterious family that treated him so badly (and maybe add a word or two of her own), but also didn't want to face them with a bruised cheek and have them think god knows what. In the end, she decided it was his fight and she was there as a moral support.

"Since we are in town already, I would like to make some purchases," she told him, touching his arm gently. "And you can deal with your family."

"All right, but please be careful. And do not go anywhere alone," he said agreeably nodding at the maid. It was almost suspicious how quickly he agreed. He must be expecting some truly awful fight. Hopefully, Master Robert was of sturdy stock. Fine, she would leave him to it. She extended her hand one more time stopping him, "Come on." She made beckoning motion with her open palm. When he stared without reaction, she sighed dramatically. "I need money to shop. Don't I get pin money or something?"

He definitely smirked at her then. "Milady doesn't know how local currency works. Should I trust my purse to her?"

She gasped at unfairness of it and opened her mouth to argue, but he only raised his palm to stop her, "Do not concern yourself. Anything you buy, would be delivered to the manor and the housekeeper shall settle the bill."

"Oh my god," Kim exclaimed. "I'll be shopping on credit? Your credit? This is just like shopping with a credit card!"

Jack gave her puzzled look, but nodded anyway. "I'm not sure what _credit card_ is, but yes, you purchases shall be paid from my funds. We are married, if you recall." His last words were a callback to yesterday, when she surprised him with a housewarming meal and she laughed at their own inside joke.

She saw his lips twitch, but he hardly ever smiled in public, so she counted it as victory.

Kim looked at his retreating back then at the still gawking scared townsfolk. She felt like yesterday in the kitchens, when she decided to shock the servants. The same desire rose in her and one more person crossing himself as Jack passed him broke the camel's back.

"My lord!" she exclaimed loudly after him. Quite possibly the entire street has heard her. "Please don't fight Master Robert to death. I have no desire to meet my new relatives at a funeral. Also, please don't be late for supper."

There, she did her part to save the unknown new relative from bodily harm. Quite satisfied with her efforts and having released the provocative urges, she turned to the maid that stood next to her stupefied.

"Ma'am!" Kim called the middle-aged woman. Oh, it wasn't right to call her so, but Kim didn't know her name and she refused to call servants just 'you.' "Can you tell me where can I find the best fabrics in this town?"

The maid finally snapped from her stupor and showed Kim a large store with all manner of fabrics and other notions. Kim could do without looks of nearly superstitious awe that the maid gave her every now and then, but otherwise she was satisfied. The fabrics of all textures and colors grabbed her attention and she focused on the ones in more subdued colors. She picked one - dark blue and soft - and tried to imagine if Jack would look good in it. She had no idea how to sew and never was interested in it, but right now this was the closest she could get to clothes shopping.

"Milady, these are..." she could hear the puzzled maid behind her.

"Milady, are you choosing fabrics? You will find whatever your heart desires here," a man, dressed in meticulously tailored clothes, approached her and bowed to her smartly. The maid quickly whispered to him who exactly was standing before him and whose wife she was. Probably to avoid any faux pas. "I see you are looking at fabrics suitable for men. We have many wonderful fabrics for women's dresses over here."

"Oh, but this is exactly what I need," Kim told him cheerfully, regretting that she only had two arms. "Do you also tailor clothes?"

"Yes, milady," the owner confirmed uncomprehendingly.

"Perfect. I shall send you a sample clothes, so you can take measurements. But what should I choose? Maybe I should pick just couple of colors and see, which one would work the best?" Kim talked to herself, borrowing into the fabrics trying to see it all.

In the end she picked two colors: the dark blue that she noticed first and a deep burgundy for shirts. She also chose ticker fabric for the open front coat/vest that seemed to be deriguour for the wealthy. There was also a matter of cloak, but Kim wasn't sure her initiative would be appreciated by Jack, so she held off from that. She left the store, leaving behind an agitated merchant who shared the news with his apprentices and servants. It was time for her to go home or she'd be late for supper herself.

Despite the chaotic morning, the meal was peaceful. Jack appeared very calm and only told her that from now on he would very involved in all the matters of managing the barony. Kim only nodded, happy that there was no bloodshed and Jack would have something to do. She informed him that she'd prefer not to eat alone and that she expected him to share all meals with her.

Afterwards they separated. Jack had to learn some of the matters of the estate one on one with the steward. Kim had found Jack's worn shirt and vest. The maid from the morning, whose name was Elizabeth, Betsy for short, was basking in the glory of having seen and heard the strange new Mistress, who so easily gave instructions to the Wolf himself. That was until said Mistress summoned her to go back to the store with the Wolf's clothes as samples.

All in all, today was a good day.

* * *

Jack approached the manor, biting his lips to keep from laughing. For sure, the girl was impossible. Of course, how could she let one day go without giving him a lecture of some sort? Always with nagging... If anyone else said what she did, he could have killed them for insult. But Isabelle, with her exaggerated words turned the tense situation into a farce, making fun of the fears of the townsfolk and their perception of him. Now he could rest assured: curious citizens would watch her like hawks.

However, once he was in the manor, his humor subsided. He sighed and, remembering all that he wanted to make clear, stepped into the main hall.

Opening the double doors, he entered the airy room taking a good look around. At the large table, at the head of it, sat his smug uncle Robert. Of course he was only his uncle through marriage to Great Aunt Leona. She still was the one to influence most decision in the Torquay, but officially Uncle Robert was the acting in Jack's stead. All around him sat elders of various hamlets and villages. Jack came just in time for their mid-day repast and there were plenty of servants around. It was obvious from their self-satisfied expression that all these people wanted to show their disdain for him, forgetting that it didn't bode well to tease a wolf.

"Ahh, Master Jack," Uncle Robert exclaimed, narrowing his eyes as if in smile and trading glances with others. "It's been a while since we saw you last. There are rumors that Baron Bruer rewarded you for your service by arranging an advantageous marriage. You are in such high regard, we were worried that you would become too elevated for us and forget this humble place. Of course this is just a provincial town. But, I see, your glory didn't last long."

"You are so right, my lord," one of the elders followed up. "Such wise words from you. Only experience will prove you right, but our Master Jack is full young. He thought he'd be a good guard dog and earn his keep, but it turns out, his owners have no more use for him. He is bound to make mistakes like this and act rashly. It's all from inexperience."

"It behooves all young people to listen to the wiser men," another elder bit out in consternation and took a healthy sip of meade.

"You are right," Jack answered very calmly, but no one looked at him. He smirked coldly and continued, "Listening to wise people is smart. Did you know that there are plenty of wise people in Devon and they say very wise things? For example, they say that the Wolf killed the entire Usher clan?"

Couple of elders choked on their drinks and Uncle Robert stared wide-eyed at Jack as if he saw the devil himself. Servants all darted to the corners, using trays like shield, as if it would protect them if Jack decided to make good on the rumor.

"They also say that all the servants in the manor were torn to pieces for show and all of Torquay was plundered and the lands seeped in blood," Jack added in the same eerily cold voice and made a motion towards his sword's hilt.

"Wha- What- How- How can- You- What-" Uncle Robert stuttered, dropping his cup and slowly rising from the chair. However, when he caught Jack's cold stare, he sat back as his legs refused to hold him.

"Perhaps I shouldn't disappoint people and deliver?" By now Jack was full on mocking they with cruelty, his disdain vicious and almost visible.

"But we don't have to quarrel! There are so many rumors spread among the commoners, we shouldn't listen to them. You are the rightful inheritor of Torquay, Master Jack. Why would you do this to _your_ people?"

"Is that so?" Jack intensified his glare, pinning the man in place. Uncle Robert nodded along.

"You came back just in time, Master Jack," Uncle Robert's words were echoed by his son, Robert Junior. "It is time that you took care of our clan matters. You are after all an Usher as well as Bruer."

"Yes, yes," one of the elders agreed. "You shouldn't have left us. What's there in Devon? Only noise and clamor and intrigues and plots... Why the young ones always seek such adventures? You should stay were you were born. With you family."

"All right. It seems that we are in agreement. I'm glad to see such warm reception. I hope it would be extended to my wife, Lady Isabelle." Jack gave one of his rare smiles, looking at each person at the table in the eyes. All of them smiled nervously and looked away, somehow worried that if the Wolf would see, or even just feel the fear, he would attack and tear their throats out. "However, today there was an unfortunate incident..." His furrowed his brow and all of the present men sat up eager to right any wrongs. "Isabelle was called to visit Lady Usher." Everyone started to look around in agitation. "My wife was hurt and upset. I dearly wish, given your proclaimed allegiance to me, that it was merely an accident... Otherwise, I have to root out the one who wished harm on my Lady Isabelle."

"Accident! It was an accident! Who would want to hurt your wife?" people clamored around him, but he only allowed another glower in the direction of Uncle Robert.

"Indeed, who would want that. To wish harm on her is to cross me directly. I have to punish those audacious to attempt any injury on her. To that end I wish to interrogate the maid-"

Uncle Robert sprung from his seat and approached Jack with solicitous smile, "I shall interrogate the servants myself, dear Nephew. Rest assured that your wife will be safe here."

Jack sighed in relief. This was an opening salvo, and he had the upper hand.

Later, much later, Jack and Isabelle were already retired to bed, she brought the unfortunate visit to Lady Usher herself.

"I hope that the maid doesn't get punished."

"She should be if only because she left you alone with her mistress. She knew what that woman is capable of," Jack didn't feel as compassionate as Isabelle did.

"But did the maid have a choice? She is hardly at liberty to-"

"Isabelle, this place is worse than York castle. These people are hostile and I wouldn't trust any of them, be it a noble or a servant. Truly, your are too kind."

"And how did you survive here then?" her voice came so soft with care.

"It was a difficult life, the kind I don't want you to have. So, please, let me handle it. Let me be your shield."

"All right."

He woke up later from a muffled cry. Already alert, he grabbed his weapon and tried to look in the darkness. However, it seemed that aside from a scared Isabelle, there was nobody else here.

"Isabelle, are you all right? Are you hurt?" he asked her swiftly running up to the bed. Did someone have a death wish and tried to poison her?

But all his panicked thoughts disappeared when Isabelle rose from the bed and hugged him tight, hiding her face in his chest. He stood very still and only felt her rapid breaths, her trembling body, her fact heartbeat.

"Alive, alive. You are alive. It's all good," she whispered fervently, breath touching his neck and it sent shivers down his spine.

Alive? Him? What was she talking about? Carefully and clumsily he run one hand over her back trying to soothe her and calm himself down. He sat them both on the bed.

"Did you have another nightmare?" he spoke more confidently now.

Isabelle nodded, which he felt rather than saw, as she still clung to him, "We were eating breakfast. I served you food from my plate. It was poisoned and you ate it. And then... then... Blood... So much blood..." she whispered and cried a little. "You weren't moving and weren't answering..." She inhaled deeply trying to calm herself. "I know it is silly to be afraid of nightmares, but, please, would you stay close tonight? I don't think I'd fall asleep otherwise..."

"Ahh, you keep making trouble even when you sleep. Such a difficult wife. Fine go to sleep. I shall sit here," he tried to diffuse her recent fears with mock grousing.

She laid back on the bed, but kept hold of his one hand.

He sat there in darkness, sure that she wouldn't be able to see his unmasked face now, and slowly running his thumb over the back of her hand. Her breathing slowed down and became more rhythmic. "Don't you have any nice dreams?" he asked jokingly.

"I do," she mumbled sleepily. He could tell by the tone that she was smiling. "Sometimes I dream that I'm riding horse by myself and trying to chase you."

"Me? Why?"

"Hmm, you are trying to show off and you are laughing so much. You have a nice laugh. You look... happy in my dream."

"Isabelle..."

But she was already asleep, her hand lax in his.

Yet Jack couldn't sleep at all. What she did and what she said... It was profound and completely unbelievable... How was it possible? Who was he for her to worry about? To worry about his life? He was a scarred animal. A wolf in human form. An awful parody of the noble born baron... Only his nobility saved him form being stoned to death... And yet _she_ cared...

"Do you even understand that when you come to your senses, I wouldn't be able to let you go?" he whispered in the dark.

He sat like a sentinel near the sleeping girl, holding her hand and protecting her from bad dreams.


	14. Chapter 14

Their lives changed again and took a new routine. Jack didn't wait for her to wake up. Instead he'd wake up at dawn and leave to deal with the matters of barony management, observing Uncle Robert and his council of elders. At the moment he merely watched and learned, although every now and then he had to use his Wolf's persona to get them in line. So he learned that to control something it wasn't enough to have sheer power. One needed knowledge and skills. A lot of knowledge and skills. He hasn't been taught this managerial and political part of being a baron's son. Only Cai did. And this defect in his education had to be rectified. And fast. So, for now Jack only attentively listened to all that was said around him, agreeing with most of it without comment or discussion so that he could think on it in depth later. Let the Ushers think he was ignorant; let them laugh behind his back thinking they fooled him while they tried to accomplish their deeds out of his knowledge. People always were overconfident and underestimated him. He wasn't a fool. He learned fast. And if previously he had no interest in this cursed place and tried to make a life for himself in Devon, now he had an enormous incentive to learn all the intricacies of the clan management. This would be his land: his and Isabelle's.

Still, despite all the apparent busyness - and because he didn't want to seem too soft to his relatives, he took over the military training and preparedness in Torquay - he tried to find time in his schedule to share meals with Isabelle. It turned out that he got spoiled easily and couldn't stand to be away from her for too long. Even if 'away' meant being in different wings of the same manor and 'too long' meant the time between meals. Not seeing her for several hours made him miss her too much. Especially when she was so happy so see him. They ate together, sharing food from their plates as became their tradition, and this simple process compensated for their absence from each other in this place where they were each other's only friends. They ate and told each other of what had transpired in their days and it was addictive in its normalcy.

Uncle Robert finally finished this particularly boring - obviously chosen as a punishment - report about the state of things on the borders of Torquay and in its waters. The summer this year happened to be especially hot and there weren't rains for a while, which meant a serious likelihood of poor harvest and loss of animals. So far things haven't been too bad, but there were signs of possibly consequence of the drought. This could be a problem for the clan and its people and it required some careful planning ahead.

Elders sighed and shook their heads and talked about the God's will. Jack, who sat in the dark corner of the library, watched with furrowed brow as the elders dispersed. The last to leave was Uncle Robert, who spared one look at Jack, scrunched nose in distaste and shut the door. Jack could have sworn he heard lamentations in the hall.

"I haven't sinned and I attend church regularly, what have I done to deserve this? Ushers, all of them, exist to make my life difficult."

Jack was sure it had nothing to do with the possible poor harvest and everything to do with him. However, he wasn't interested in his Uncle's snide remarks. He was deep in thought, when the door opened slowly with a squeak and when he lifted his gaze he squinted in disbelief. In the doorway stood, like a vision on pastel, Isabelle. She smiled and walked towards him, a tray in her hands.

She put the tray down and he saw that it had contained light repast. She placed it on his table, pulled a chair close and sat opposite to him. He already knew that she cared little about the etiquette and rules. Like right now, she should not be seen serving food as she was a lady. Even if it was to bring it to her husband. Still, he felt like she was more comfortable with him and did how she felt like doing. This was another sign of her trust in him.

She went ahead and poured a drink for him, but he stopped her with a gentle hand on the pitcher that he took away from her. Then he poured a drink for her. It was completely wrong, especially for a baron's son to serve anyone, but he didn't care. He only wanted to reciprocate: he responded to her care for him.

She smiled and took it in stride, but he was impatient to ask.

"Why are you here, milady?"

"Why? Should I ask to be seen by you by appointment?" she snorted and blushed a little. Then she took a sip and recovered. "I just wanted you to know that you shouldn't be too late coming from your council meeting this evening. When I was in town, I had ordered your clothes from the tailor, Mr. Simon. I was told that he has the best selection and best tailors. And you know, what was brought today looks great and I liked it. It seems that he lives up to his reputation. Everything was made with skill and quickly."

"Why?" Jack asked surprised at her joyful enthusiasm. "I mean why more clothes? I seem to have enough..."

"You mean your wardrobe of only black? You are taking monochromatic theme to an extreme. You could do with some accents of color," she returned and he was lost a little at seeing her mock furrowed brows. She looked like she wanted to scold him again. For what he wasn't sure. Maybe for asking questions? "To answer your question: because you are my husband and you must look attractive."

"What?" Jack had blinked in confusion, thinking he misheard. It was that usually words like _beauty_ ad _attractiveness_ didn't apply to him. At all.

Isabelle sighed deeply as if he was missing the most obvious things. She often made him feel like that: stunned, confused, unmoored.

"Finish your drink or it would go stale."

He glanced at the cup in his hand still stuck in mid-distance to his mouth. Huh, her words stunned him so much he forgot he had something in his hand. Still, he followed her advice and took a large gulp.

"I can't believe I have to convince you to look the part of the baron's son and heir," she said with consternation.

"People don't use words like attractive to talk about men," he managed to squeeze out the first thing that he could come up with in counter response. He fervently hoped his argumentative wife would drop this subject.

"Used or not used, whatever," Isabelle said casually, waving her hand in a dismissive manner. And then she looked at him and added with conviction. "I don't care. You must know that a good husband would indulge his wife."

"Ha! I thought you came here to take care of your husband, like a good wife should. Instead you are here to extort. That makes you a bad wife."

"A good husband wouldn't have a bad wife."

"See, right there, that was extortion," Jack responded more calmly. He always enjoyed their banter and mock grousing, because unlike others Isabelle never wanted to truly hurt him. He laughed at her demonstrative pout as she tired to come up with a response. He poured out the liquid from her cup and refreshed it from the pitcher.

"There. It had gone stale," he said mildly, taking care of her like a good husband should.

In the evening, this good husband was standing in front of a large mirror and watched as Isabelle turned him this way and that, adjusting clothes on him and ironing out the invisible wrinkles with her hands. She seemed to be in a good mood, chatting about the tailor, the fabrics, the cut and asking him if he had any preferences. The clothes did fit him perfectly and were well made, at least no worse than Devon-made options. However, he stood there like an idiot watching Isabelle and paying little attention to his own reflection.

He recalled one moment in Devon, when Cai managed to trap him and make one of his many derisive comments to Jack. In that instance he mocked Jack about his vision for a future bride. At the time, Jack was only learning under Hrodolph and was no more than a knight-in-training, but he still had his pride. So he threw a short description to get his brother off his back and not appear to pathetic. But even then, he felt the truth of that statement in his bones. That was the reason he never paid attention to any young ladies and all but ignored Donna, when Aunt Leona tried to arrange a marriage for them. It was because he had nothing to offer to a lady like Donna. And now... Was it possible that it some strange way his words were willed into being? That _he became dear to someone_? Was it possible that _someone wasn't repulsed by his face_?

What nonsense! But somehow, right now, he was ready to believe Isabelle when she talked about his attractiveness. Even when he looked at himself in the mirror, saw the mask and knew the scars it hid. It was why he agreed to put new clothes so as to appear handsome for her, knowing that she probably meant the expensive attire, not his person. It was these words, which would be a cruel and unforgivable insults coming from anyone else, were different when she said them. Hundreds of questions and doubts, mixed in with the gentle sprouts of hope and filled his mind and didn't let him figured out his own feelings. Feelings that sprung in his heart like a small brook, which chiseled at the dam drop by drop so that in time it would break through and rush unrestrained like a strong river that would flood all the land around it. At that moment Jack felt like a twig that was carried by a current somewhere unknown.

* * *

Kim run her hands over his shoulders again, refraining from doing more than that. It would be so tempting to run them all over him... She had to remind herself that this was not America in 21 century and she was not free to do so. Even if he was her husband. Still, she was attracted to him. She liked him. He was her friend here. A friend, who took her safety so seriously, he was taking on his entire hateful family to ensure her well being. That nightmare she had of him being poisoned drove to her in perfect clarity that she and him were bound together for all intents and purposes. If something happened to him, she would be devastated. Her crush on mysterious and sexy man, grew into a deep appreciation of him as a friend and now it was making her head spin to know that he was so honorable and protective. Was it any wonder that she was falling for him? Unfortunately for her, Jack either was too honorable to overstep whatever boundary he set up for himself, or he simply didn't see her as a woman.

She missed him a lot these days, even though she understood in her mind that he couldn't spend all this time being next to her. He had matters to attend, he had obligations. At least now he wasn't in charge of the defense in Devon and didn't have to travel out on missions. But all these arguments didn't help. So she tried to keep herself occupied by coming up with chores. For example, she made full inventory of all medicinal items that she and Jack possessed and made a point to learn all that they were supposed to accomplish. She quietly got rid of various suspicious looking substances like dried dung, but kept most of the herbal mixtures. This was how she discovered that Isabelle Corneille's family packed a lot of cosmetics, conveniently labeled, and she was spent some time learning all that these items were supposed to do.

She tried to recall any of the advice from women's magazine about attracting attention of men. Or remember stories of her friends in school when they talked about their crushes. Was she supposed to flirt? Flip her hair? Bend and snap? She giggled trying to imagine the scene of her bending low in her dress and trying to snap. She didn't think the stays on her dress would survive such an attempt. What was the time appropriate method of showing preference? Should she drop her handkerchief? Show the top of her boots? Ankle? Bare shoulder? It's not like they haven't been living together and spend their nights in the same room. Granted, her nightdress was long, voluminous and had long sleeves, but still... And they have been close to each other physically. When they rode the horse, for example...

That's why when the new clothes arrived, Kim was so excited. Half-listening to the explanation of how Mr. Simon put other orders on hold and made every single apprentice focus of this urgent order, she looked at the new shirts and vest. He would look so good in them... But he was coming late each evening. She even delayed her bedtime just to keep up with the story-telling tradition that seemed to develop between them. She could let him know with a servant or she could surprise him. Putting her idea to life, she called for refreshments and had Rose bring it to the library, where the council met. On the way she ran into Master Robert. The man was barely polite, only nodding briefly and clenching his teeth. She guessed she should be happy with this level of civility, given how much they hated Jack. In fact, most noble people she met here were like that.

This she learned when she realized she met ladies of the manor.

She had been busy with her pharmaceutical audit and inventory when someone knocked on the main doors to their quarters and pleaded an audience with the Lady Isabelle. Kim nodded and Mary quickly brought in the visitor. It was the steward, Mr. Burger, who immediately began bowing low and practically sweeping the floors with the hem of his vest. She knew the reason for the show of deference: Jack had instilled a great deal of fear in all servants. The maid who brought Kim to Lady Usher was whipped on the orders of Master Robert, but everyone assumed it was Jack's doing. Kim cried when she learned of that and pleaded with Jack to interfere, but he only confirmed that it was proper punishment. This was one of those times when Kim remained quiet for the rest of the evening and the whole next day. Later, Rose told her that Jack had sent a healer to the maid and even got her reassigned to their retinue of servants, but she was not allowed to come near Kim. She had to reconcile her modern sensibilities to the harsh life she now had to live.

"Milady, in honor of your marriage, the ladies of the Usher clan would like you to join them for a celebratory meal," Mr. Burger said pompously.

Kim acquiesced: it wasn't the mad Lady Usher that issued an invitation. This must be Aunt Leona and her granddaughters. Kim looked at herself in the mirror and decided that her comfortable day dress was appropriate for an unplanned visit, even if it was in her honor.

Philip Burger escorted her to the veranda that overlooked the lake. Obviously it was a concession to a warm day and the view was spectacular. There was already a table set and she found several women sitting there. All of them talked among each other, but stopped and bowed to her. It surprised her. The most senior of the ladies approached Kim with a smile.

"Lady Isabelle, we are glad to welcome you here. Unfortunately, we weren't properly introduced to each other. I am Katherine Watson. I am Robert Watson Jr's wife. These-" she pointed at the two women standing behind her, "-are my daughters: Donna and Claire. The rest are some more of our distant relatives and you will meet them all properly given time."

"Pleased to meet," Kim said politely and tried to remember how Lady Marshal behaved in these kind of circumstances.

The maids showed her to the head of the table and she took the seat. Then she used the moment as others returned to seating and studied her hostesses. There were a total of ten ladies present, all of different ages and all of them staring at her with unbridled curiosity. While the servants served the food, she attempted to decide on her behavior tactic.

Before she could decide anything, Claire asked her with great interest, "Lady Isabelle, how is it to live with a husband like that?" At least she waited until the servants were out of earshot.

"I beg your pardon. What do you mean?" Kim frowned in confusion. She hasn't experienced such blatant curiosity in her personal life before.

"Well, for example, everyone knows that you share the sleeping quarters. It is ever so... unusual. Aren't you upset that you have leave like a poor peasant?" the lady explained herself with wide eyes, holding a hand to her cheek in mock horror. Kim knew exactly what was going here. It was the same condescension disguised as concern trolling, while keeping the polite expression on the face.

"On the contrary," she shrugged and smiled contentedly. "It is ever so useful. Because while I share rooms with my husband, I shall be certain that I am the only woman in his life." Kim knew what she was doing: this time frame was rife with men taking mistresses, who often were more influential than official wives.

"That is... certainly... true," Lady Katherine mumbled. She exchanged glances with her daughters, who looked lost at this unexpected response, and then they both looked away. Kim was pleased: obviously both Master Roberts have been lees than faithful to their wives. Even if it was considered the norm, she imagined few wives appreciated it.

While the older ladies looked among each other, Donna has butted in, not even trying to hide her arrogance, "But still, it must be horrifying to observe him so up close every day. If I were in your place, I would have agreed to ten mistresses. Everybody knows how ugly he is with all the scars."

"What scars?"

"What?" the young woman looked lost for a second and stared open-mouthed.

"What do you mean?" Kim continued innocently and even added the batted lashes to the picture of innocence. They would have to explain themselves fully and that was simply too impolite and prurient of them to inquire after intimate life of others. Besides a lady could not be heard talking of men's bodies. "What scars?"

"But Lady Isabelle..."

"Enough," an older lady appeared at the table. She was very beautiful even in her fifties. She spoke and gave Donna a withering look. "Behave yourself like a young lady. It is not polite to ask spouses about their intimate life! What would Lady Isabelle think of our manners?"

"Mother! We haven't expected you to join. Are you not still resting after trip to the monastery?" Katherine exclaimed.

"I am fine. Don't make me out as an old lady." The newcomer turned to Kim with another polite practiced smile. "I am Leona Watson. You are born Corneille, aren't you?"

"Pleased to meet you. And, yes, I am formerly a Corneille."

"I used to know the former head of the family. The new one is not even worth talking about." She huffed and looked at Kim even more pointedly. "So you married Jacob Bruer. I wondered what all the fuss was about ever since I returned from the monastery. Only to discover that he had married. That boy never misses his chance to upset the Torquay. And now he wants to assume leadership the clan..."

"As is his position as an heir, non?" Kim asked mildly, knowing full well that it ought to irk them.

"Indeed," Leona drawled and her polite smile gotten even more forced. "He's shown remarkable willingness to involve himself, whereas before he couldn't leave Torquay fast enough. But, I suppose, marriage changes people."

Kim inclined her head and added, "Life shapes us into who we are."

This was as close a hint to his abysmal childhood at their hands as she could allow while being polite. Leona's face tightened a little and Kim knew that she was understood: Jack didn't forgive or forget.

"I heard you met Lady Usher. That was unfortunate. The poor soul doesn't know what time of day it is. Or even what year... Just like Jacob's own mother," Leona had looked pointedly at Kim.

"I cannot discuss someone who I haven't met. I only hope that she found peace at last," Kim's response was enough to make them drop the subject altogether.

Leona's face was more calculating than mad and Kim wondered if she ought to worry about poisons for real now. She now understood all that Jack was telling her about the Ushers. How did he survive these vile people?

* * *

Jack was staying up late in the their quarters trying to finish the book he began this morning. However, the more he read, the less sense it made. Letters blurred together and became some incomprehensible scribble. But Jack valiantly fought on and kept reading. Only at some point the blurred scribbles became one dark spot that grew and grew until he was dozing off sitting in the chair. He dreamed of something confusing, some distant memories that drifted past him. Darkness and fear was prevalent and he whimpered thinking he as lost in the forest again.

Then came a sensation of something light and soft. It was so unusual that he almost woke up. And then he felt someone's hands touching his face. No! No! No! People's hands meant pain. No! He didn't want to!

He tensed and tried to wake up from the dream. With effort he opened eyes wide.

But it was only Isabelle next to him, looking at him with trepidation. Jack grew cold. Was this continuation of the nightmare?

And then he noticed her hand hovering near his face. It was her hand! She touched his face?

He looked at her again. She was calmer now, but looked with concern. He exhaled, feeling the beads of sweat on his forehead. He wiped his face with a sleeve, messing up his hair and Isabelle reached out to move the strands out of his face, momentarily touching the skin. And maybe because he wasn't fully awake, but her light touch suddenly became a great temptation to him and he didn't resist. He gently took hold of her palm and pressed it to his cheek. Closing his eyes he recognized it: that light feeling was back. Just a little longer... He would stay like this a little longer...

He felt her fingers move, but she didn't break away. Instead her other hand landed on his shoulder. Sliding up the neck, she slightly nudged at the back of his head and he, completely lost in the uncommon sensations, followed her movement and his head was in her lap. He inhaled the scent that lingered in the skirts of her dress and felt how her fingers combed through his hair.

So this was how it felt... when a mother comforted her child. He had no idea... His mother was gone and memories of her hazy.

But those thought and memories faded as she continued her ministrations and he fell asleep with no bad memories marring his sleep.

A/N: I changed Bobby's name to Watson, as Wasabi wouldn't have worked in this story.


	15. Chapter 15

Kim didn't even notice when changes began, but at some point there were more than three maids reporting to her every morning. She didn't intend to, but after several off-hand comment to Jack about a certain food or a dish she wished she had or missed, she realized that her husband was keen to spoil her. Moreover, all the servants were very keen to comply with his wishes. So, they would send Rose as their emissary to find out what was it that she wanted and, specifically, what were the exact recipes. Soon thereafter, there were several servants reporting to her every morning for instructions. Cooks and kitchen workers would come each morning to ask what was her fancy for the day. One week into this schedule and she received a visit from the steward and the housekeeper.

Mrs. Malone was an interesting character. Boisterous and loud, she had funny mannerisms and quickly assumed a familiar tone with Kim. Of course, Kim didn't mind. She was a little tired of constant deference from people, but understood that it was required because of her position. Mrs. Malone spoke proficient French, but lamented that Mistress better learn local tongue quickly. She brought a giant gross-book, which was the accounting of expenses in the manor and Kim realized that she was expected to keep track of the household ledger. All those times when Lady Marshal sighed at Kim's lack of memory (or actual knowledge) came to mind, because Kim still had only the basic notion of accounting. However, now it wasn't just a test. It turned out her 'lack of memory' or rather her complete lack of knowledge of what goes into running an estate wasn't just some relic of the past that she hated. Previously, in York, Lady Marshal dealt with all day-to-day operations and Kim only had to show some light interest in those, which she actively undermined because she didn't want to marry Francis. Here, though, she became not merely an orphan wife of the ostracized second son, but a lady of some importance. She controlled finances in the manor and was in charge of the human resources.

It was probably why the Watson ladies sent her gifts after their supper. Ostensibly to congratulate her on the nuptials, but in reality, it was their recognition of Kim's growing influence in Torquay. Mrs. Malone, who personally delivered the gifts, only snorted when Kim asked what happened to snooty ladies that they sent her presents.

"That would be because they need to please you now. Since Master Jack decided to take over from Master Robert. And they can't do anything about it. There are no boys in that family to inherit. Only two girls. So, they don't have rightful heirs of their own. And you are the wife of the only recognized heir, who also happens to be the son of the influential baron Bruer. Your husband is growing in power here and soon you will be the first lady of Torquay. They should try and butter you up, since it's all but useless with Master Jack. I told them, for years I told them to take care of him, but who would listen to a servant?"

"You told them?" It was so strange to hear a servant speak so casually about her employers.

"I sure did. I was the wet nurse to the Master Robert Junior. Had known them for a while now. Had known Master Jack since he was born. Which was why I told them to be careful. I knew that boy would survive and become strong. I have seen many children and I could just tell with him... And you too, I can tell that you aren't going to let them walk all over you. _Sharing rooms with your husband so you'd be the only one for him_... Clever girl."

Kim blushed at that reminder of her words. She only said them to get a small jab at the condescending women, but apparently nothing stayed secret here.

"Don't mind me knowing it, Lady Isabelle. I know most things here. Servants talk. And so far, they say good things about you. But I heard you lost your memories and don't remember much about being a lady of the house. Let met help you."

Mrs. Malone was a very interesting person to talk to. She knew a lot of the family history and had shared it freely. It seemed that Lady Leona didn't like her, but Mrs. Malone's position as the housekeeper was guaranteed since both Master Roberts favored her. She agreed to meet Kim daily to go over the things that Kim should know and help her learn more of the current Anglo-Saxon.

So Kim was quite busy, slowly integrating herself into the life of the estate.

* * *

Life was bustling in the town on Torquay as it always did. And though the unseasonably warm weather was something few remembered experiencing before, life in town went on like always. Townsfolk went about their business. Servants had their chores. And one particularly enterprising woman, who was inspired by her recent success in updating husband's wardrobe, decided to continue with her winning streak. Kim wanted to order more clothes for Jack. She appreciated the quality and speed with which her order was processed and decided to make a bigger order and chose fabrics herself.

As was expected, there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Despite the fact that it was autumn, the air was warm and the sun was it making even warmer. Smart merchants had mounted canopies over their counters to entice customer, who could find shade under those colorful canopies. The main street was quite a promenade now, with awnings of many colors creating one shaded corridor.

Wealthier people, those who didn't have to hurry anywhere, slowly walked down the streets accompanied by servants.

"Hold him! Hold the thief! Get back here!"

Johnny was running full tilt, weaving around the people and stalls. His sides hurt and he was breathing hard, barely getting air. It was all because he was so hungry and weak. He knew he couldn't run for much longer and therefore he tried to lose his pursuers and hide somewhere.

Johnny couldn't get caught. He was the only breadwinner now. His father injured his back and now couldn't go out fishing. In fact he barely could get up some days. And mother just recently had a babe - his little sister. She too couldn't work full strength. She worked at the tavern and the mistress always yelled at her for having a little one there. They lived in the tiny room near kitchen and the owners always complained about sister's crying at night. But it wasn't her fault that she cried- she was simply hungry. It's not like she could understand. Johnny - he understood, because he was a big boy. He was almost eleven years old. His baby sister was so small, even he could carry her in hands and not get tired.

Maybe if he tried to get lost on the main street among the wandering crowd... He saw an opening and took it. He made a sharp turn around the corner, which brought him into the main street.

Unfortunately, he immediately plowed into someone and fallen back on the ground. And the meat pies fell our of his hands. He scrambled to gather them before too late-

"Aha! Here you are, you pest!" someone yelled really close to him. Johnny lifted his head and saw the owner of the pastry stall, from whom he stolen the pies.

Determined, Johnny snuck the last pie into his shirt and closed his eyes in preparation for a beating. It's not like he was going to return the pies and the owner hardly wanted the dirty one back... So, a beating was all he was going to get.

"Hey! What are you doing?" someone exclaimed in protest as Johnny felt the man, who chased him, pick him up by the scruff. "Leave him be."

"He is a thief and needs to be taught a lesson, lest he steal again," the merchant said forcefully, sure in his right to demand such compensation. Then, in quieter voice he added, "Just look at what he did to your clothes, milady."

Johnny opened his eyes and looked on with curiosity at the who he ran into. It was a young and important lady, in a light dress made of fabric that shone in the sun. And in the middle of the beautiful skirt was a large dusty stain. It was not a big deal if he or any other person had such stains, but to see such beautiful clothes stained and dirtied... Johnny knew that just a beating would not be enough.

"And what did he steal? Meat pies?" he realized that the lady was speaking French and her maid explained it so the others understood. The lady said something again and looked unconcerned about her dirty dress. "I shall pay for them. Let him go."

"Oh... Hmm... As you wish, milady," the merchant seemed to have lost his anger. He got the coin and let Johnny go, still looking at the lady with curiosity.

Johnny should have taken his chance and ran, but he was struck staring at the fancy lady as she tried to clean her skirt. Then she straightened up and grabbed his arm.

"Where are you parents? Take me to them."

Johnny could only point at the tavern that was his home in the last year.

When they showed up at the shabby establishment, everyone who was there stopped whatever they we're doing and silence descended on the dining hall. They all stared at the strange vision. It's not like this was a third rate place, but there was never a guest as high positioned as this lady. At most the place got the modest merchants and servants in particular regard with their masters.

Johnny's mom nearly dropped the tray with cups and plates when she saw her son - quiet, guilty, shifty - accompany inside a well dressed lady, who held onto his shoulder. She quickly put the tray down and ran to the noble lady, wiping her hands on the had he done, her son? She only sent him to the nearby grocers. When did he manage to dirty the lady's clothes?

"Milady, please forgive my son, it he did something wrong," she quickly, bowing to the young woman. She had to protect him, "He didn't mean to. It's just he is playful. Just tell me what he did, and I'll punish him. It's just we have no one to watch him. My husband is sick and I recently had a baby. It's all my fault."

The lady seemingly was immersed in studying the tavern, and only [aid attention when her maid started talking. The she looked at the older woman.

"Your husband is hurt and you have a little one?" the young lady's maid explained after the pretty mistress spoke.

"Yes, milady. I have a little girl."

"Oh? And you work all day here?" she kept asking.

"Yes, I am a maid here. Bring plates, take plates, clean plates, clean floor. You know, what maids do..." she kept bowing with every answer.

"Please stop bowing all the time. It's will be fine. I won't tell," the lady smiled and waved her hand around. "It is a bit warm, non?"

"Milady," the maid exclaimed. "Please sit down. I'll bring you something refreshing." The older woman rushed to clean the table and, after a skeptical look, wiped the bench too.

The noble lady didn't seem to mind and sat down, even if her own maid wiped the bench again with her own skirt.

"Johnny, be useful. Go get those cookies that the mistress kept for her own tea party. They should be in the far corner in the larder."

The lady's maid was busy explaining, but the young noble woman nodded along and repeated 'cookies' with a smile.

"I like sweets. Although I like chocolate the best, but, alas, it is not found here." Everyone repeated chocolate after her, unsure what this interesting sweet the lady was talking about. "And you daughter? Who watches her when you work? How seriously is your husband hurt?"

At first Johnny's mom, Anne, was reticent, but soon the genuine interest from the lady draw the woman in and she shared her recent worries with the young noble mistress. Other patrons, who kept throwing curious glances at the unusual sight, slowly returned to their meals since the conversation was so mundane. The only thing was that no one bothered Anne to serve and clean while she was busy talking to the lady.

Johnny brought the prettiest tray, on which stood the best pitcher the mistress owned and which was only use don high holidays, and began serving the cups and plates. He was so glad that the kind lady didn't scold him or even tell anything to his mother about him stealing. His mom wouldn't stand for it, even if he was doing it for the family. His mom would be so disappointed if she knew. So, he was very happy now: not only he avoided beating, scolding or mom's disappointment, he even got a cookie, which he only could look at before.

While the women took their refreshment, and Johnny enjoyed his first ever cookie, the tavern was slowly filling up. Neighbors and passer-bys came in to see the unusual sight. Somebody must have told the tavern's mistress, who left this morning to visit a friend, because suddenly people by the door were pushed aside and the mistress flew in, red in the face from running. She stared at the scene before her without comprehension and her jaw unhinged. The noble lady was sitting at the simple table and shared a meal with a scullery maid. She was about to say something when the unthinkable happened.

The gates of hell opened...

Not literally, but that was how the witnesses described it afterwards in hushed whispers.

Suddenly people surrounding the doors parted and in came the Wolf. Patrons inside froze in their places: some with half-opened mouths and some with cups by their lips. In the sudden silence only the buzzing of the flies could be heard. The tavern's mistress fell to the ground, but remained silent and even covered her mouth with a hand.

The cursed one, who for the first time was seen wearing clothes that weren't all black, only quickly surveyed the room and then settled his gaze on the lady. And most amazingly, the lady, upon seeing the Wolf, smiled to him wide.

"Isabelle," he exclaimed in obvious displeasure and everyone's hearts stopped for a second. He stepped close to the lady and Anne and Johnny startled away. "Why no one in the manor could tell me where to find you?"

"Well, you found me with little difficulty," the lady responded without a hint of fear. What was she doing? Didn't she know that one never contradicted the Wolf? Or looked him in the face? Johnny felt very sorry for the pretty lady, who was so kind to him, but she angered the Wolf...

"Of course I found you. All I had to do was look for the biggest crowd," the Wolf responded as if he didn't hear the lady's impertinent answer. He gestured t the door and everyone who was watching them, disappeared from the view. "So, what other adventure did you find now?"

"It's nothing. I just was walking around, and then talked to Anne here and forgot the time passing," she gestured to Anne and Johnny and they both tried to appear as small as possible.

"A scullery maid?"

"Yes," the lady answered firmly and it was interesting to see how the Wolf sharp eyes warmed over. "She had a baby recently and her husband is hurt and can't work. And they all live in here, in a tiny room. And Johnny has to work too and he is only ten. He can't go fishing yet and they only eat once a day..."

"Isabelle..." the Wolf said in a surprisingly gentle tone. "There are many Annes and Johnnys like that everywhere."

The lady looked around lost at the answer and when her eyes settled on the little girl in Anne's hands, she seemingly came to a decision.

"My lord, please indulge me," she looked at the Wolf with big eyes and smiled.

The young lord sighed deeply and turned to the tavern's mistress who was still sitting on the floor. In a deep resigned voice he said, "My wife wishes to hire the maid, her husband and their son to work at the manor."

He looked over at them and Johnny was terrified to have met the Wolf's eyes. But then he looked away and Johnny could breathe.

"When you report to the manor, please be clean and dressed neatly. It will not do if my wife's servants look like beggars," everything was said in a calm voice, but it was understood that it was an order.

The mistress nodded along, still sitting on the floor.

"If this is all, lets go home, Isabelle. Everyone is worried," the young lord said and offered the lady his hand.

"I am sure it is because you scared them all to death with your glower," the lady snorted, but took his hand and even squeezed his fingers. She turned to wave her other hand at Anne and Johnny and smiled widely at her husband. She looked so pleased. Her husband only shrugged and a corner of his mouth twitched.

And then they left hand in hand.

"Does it mean we will live in the manor now? Is it good or bad?" Johnny asked quietly. Anne only ruffled his hair with a sad smile. Who knew if it was good or bad? The young lady was so nice, but her husband...

"What was it? Did we just entertain Lady Bruer in my tavern while the Wolf was searching for her? And lived?" the mistress slowly rose to her shaky legs.

"Truly, we are blessed. The young lady is so kind. The Wolf behaved when with her. What if she was upset with something?"

Townsfolk were relived, but so were the dwellers of the Torquay manor, who greeted her upon return as if she was a queen. No one wanted to have their hide shredded if something happened to her.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: I will be traveling for the next two weeks and won't be able to post regularly, if at all. I plan to return to regular posting schedule on July 29.

* * *

Strong calloused fingers held her hand firmly, but with infinite gentleness. She couldn't even remember if his touches were ever anything but gentle. Even in the beginning he was always so careful so as not to cause her any real damage. Even when he lifted her off the street the first time they met. Of course, from the outside it might have looked like that a strict husband was marching his wayward wife home, but Kim knew better.

Yesterday's evening, when he fell asleep with his head in her lap, she felt a little discomposed. She was shocked with how wary he was of touches that he didn't initiate. His hesitation when he saw her hand hovering over his face told her volumes of how touch-deprived he was. She didn't plan to - didn't wish to - deny him any comfort he needed. He was so touchingly grateful for her care, had been thankful for a simple comforting touch, had looked so trusting and vulnerable at that moment... She wasn't sure if he fully realized what was going on or considered it a continuation of the dream.

Kim woke up the next morning in bed. She must have fallen asleep herself holding her husband. And he... He just was his usual self that morning without mentioning the evening's events, but she noticed that he touched her more often. As if on accident, in passing, but without any particular need for it... Was he actually noticing her now like _that?_ Could he really be-? If only she could read his mind...

* * *

Every time it was like a small miracle. He would offer her his hand and she would take it. Without hesitation and without regard as to whether they were alone or under the scrutiny of hundreds of curious eyes. He himself didn't care about possible witnesses because all his attention was consumed by the light in her eyes that met his gaze without fear. He thought that even if he was a king and she - a mere scullery maid, he still would be drawn to her without regard to how it would appear.

Looking down at their intertwined fingers, Jack remembered last evening. It must have been a dream, a product of his tired mind that was exhausted by the very boring book he was trying to read. But then, why did he wake up before dawn with his head in her lap, hugging her legs like a pillow? Why was she slumped over him, her hair a curtain over his face? She slept so soundly, she didn't even stir when he carried her to bed.

He didn't believe, couldn't afford to believe in what had happened. It was just too good. And yet he could let go of the... memory? dream? He must be a fool, but Jack wanted to return into that dream where she combed through his hair so gently... And yet he stopped himself again and again... It would be too dangerous to let his heart fool him.

He squeezed her hand a little just as a reminder that she was real and not something he hallucinated like when he trained his body to withstand poisons. He was sure that it would never happen again, but he could at least appease the longing in his heart by touching her hand.

He was an idiot. How could these fleeting touches compare to the care and pleasure of her gentle hands willingly comforting him? But could he really hope for more, when even his own family never touched him other than to hurt?

The whole way home she looked very pleased and walked with a pep in her step, skipping like a child. But by the time he brought her to their rooms, having decided that she had enough company and adventures for the day, she became strangely quiet. He just managed to ask her what was she thinking, when she rounded on him with an ernest expression.

"You know, I never have thought on it before, but you and I are very lucky." He almost laughed at her calling him lucky, but she went on, "We were born into nobility, into wealthy families. The whole system is stacked to benefit us. To be born into a lower class must be awful. To be trapped in your position all your life... For shame."

Jack never question his lot in life. Yes, he was universally reviled, but he was noble born. He took in for granted. But Isabelle seemed so shocked to see the poverty like what Johnny was living in.

"This is how the wold is, how the Lord created it," he repeated what he heard before from others. Isabelle's face clearly told him that to her those were just words.

"But is it fair? A person could be a talented healer or a painter, but because he was born as peasant he would be forever a farmer? Why would the Lord give such talents if they would be wasted?" her fists were clenched and she looked ver determined.

"Do you want to change the rules of the world? That cannot be done by one person, even the king," he didn't quite understand her, but maybe it was an example of her fairness that he always found admirable?

"Obviously I can't change the world, but I can help people around me," she finished her thought and went behind the screen to undress.

Later when they were getting ready for bed she turned to him before he extinguished the candle.

"This family that you hired... I can put them to whatever tasks I want to, right? Even give Johnny some education?"

"Yes, of course. But why would you want to educate him?"

"First of all, if it wasn't for his father's accident, he wouldn't be a servant, right? He'd be a fisherman." He agreed with a nod. "Secondly, it is my way of changing the world. You'll see, in several hundreds of years, it would be considered a universal right to be literate and people would wonder how dark this time in history was."

She sounded righteous and sure as if trying to challenge him to a debate.

"All right, all right, fine," Jack said quickly to finish this conversation and hiding his smile. And later mumbled quietly, "We just have to survive these several hundreds of years and then check if you are right."

"You!"

If anyone saw how a laughing Wolf was hastily dodging pillows thrown at him by his wife, they would have thought that they surely drunk too much ale.

The next day they had their midday meal on the terrace, which Isabelle convinced him was necessary for his well-being after he was cooped up in the library for too long. Steward Burger approached them with the family of newly hired servants. Anne held her daughter and Johnny was helping a thin pale man. Isabelle looked over them and, while they still looked too tired and worn out, their clothes was clean and neat.

They all bowed deeply to her and ever deeper - to Jack. Steward, who himself was bowing, looked pleased. He must have had instructed the new servants on how to great the Lord and the Lady of the manor.

Of course, Isabelle was her usual self. She smiled widely at them.

"Are you all well? Have you been fed?"

"Yes, milady, we thank you for your kindness," the man answered for the family and inclined his head. His wife and son repeated the action.

"Good," Isabelle nodded and turned to Jack, who continued his meal. "So, how do I arrange for Johnny to learn his letters? Is there a school? And Anne should not work full-time while the baby is still so small..."

"Milady!" all present, aside from Jack, exclaimed in near unison.

"Hmm?" she looked back at them innocently.

Steward had recovered his wits and assumed an impassive face. He has been a servant here long enough to couch his responses. Lady Isabelle with all her strangeness still was much better than Master Jack, who, as people knew, didn't suffer from excessive leniency towards anyone. Except, perhaps, his strange wife.

"He can attend parish school in Torquay," Jack answered mildly, enjoying everyone's reactions to Isabelle words. "As for the mother: I'd let Mrs. Malone decide where she'd be useful."

"Perfect!" she responded brightly and turned to Anne. "You little girl, what did you name her? Can I hold her?"

Anne looked in fear at him, then the Steward, and then back to his wife. Slowly she passed the tiny bundle to Isabelle, who must have been good with kids because the girl didn't cry when a stranger took her.

"Oh! Look how pretty she is, isn't she? My lord, take a look," Isabelle spoke in admiration, turned closer to Jack and presented the baby to him. Of course, she didn't even notice how everyone tensed at her words. Everyone, including her dear husband, who up until this moment enjoyed the spectacle of his wife confounding people. Now, he froze, afraid to breathe.

But to his immense relief a maid ran up this moment. She bowed and threw curious glances at the tableaux before her and informed him that there was a messenger for him from Devon. So Jack simply... ran away.

He never before saw children this small, which wasn't surprising. Babies and pregnant women were hidden from him first and foremost. But that wasn't what caused him concern. No, he was terrified of his own treacherous thoughts that came back with vengeance. When Isabelle held the maid's baby, brought it close to chest, smiled so happily... He couldn't tear his eyes away from her. He was horrified by his own thoughts, but they were so tempting... Because it was so easy to imagine her holding a baby that looked so much like her and maybe a little like him...

No, these were treacherous thoughts and wishes. He better stop now before it got out of hand. He was getting too greedy in his thoughts. Wasn't it just too crazy that he imagined a baby with a woman he hasn't touched like that, even though she was his by law?

He didn't deny that Isabelle stirred certain... desires in him. And while he trusted his own iron will, these desires were causing him significant discomfort. Of course, someone in his position could take on mistresses or even take any servant woman in the manor. But at some point Jack realized that he simply couldn't imagine anyone else in that role, other than Isabelle. Thinking of substitution left him with sour taste.

Like all young noblemen and, in particular, during his knight training, he got the taste of the carnal knowledge. He hardly found any particular pleasure in it, other than physical release. What was so great about being with a woman, who froze in fear and repulsion under his hand? He understood that there were some, deviant people who enjoyed that fear and helplessness in women, but he wasn't like that. Maybe the women he was with weren't good at pretending, or maybe he could feel the fear on some unspoken level, but he was glad when Hrodolph decided that he had enough of those 'lessons.'

Of course, such considerations were laid by the way-side when marital duty was involved. But Isabelle was never a duty...

She was... Who was she to him? Jack couldn't find the right words that would reflect his feelings. He wasn't aware before that such feelings existed. But she was someone treasured and dear to him. So dear in fact that he wouldn't risk their relationship over some minute lust.

Jack took a deep breath, shook his head to dislodge any tempting images, and went to library. Messenger from Devon: that what he had to focus on. Of course, when he received a stack of letters from the messenger, it turned that most of them were from York residents, all asking about Isabelle.

After reading all inquiries about Isabelle's health and well-being, Jack threw the letters down and buried his face in hands with a near moan.

* * *

He only told her that he had some matters to attend to and then disappeared after a quick breakfast. At first she didn't mind since she had her own lessons to attend. Mrs. Malone was quite a task-master and had Kim going over the ledger daily, as well as teaching her conversational Anglo-Saxon. Aside from that, they had full review of typical tasks that were undertaken in the manor routinely. Housing, maintenance of it, food provision, coordination of workforce, training, planning, laundry... It seemed that even if Kim didn't have to manage everything, she had to know what was delegated to various senior servants. She diligently tried to learn it all, but secretly she wished she was back in 21st century where there was electricity, power tools, and plumbing.

Still today she could hardly focus. Something happened to Jack and was a little stand-offish with her. Was there a bad news from Devon the other day? She asked, but he only said it was a routine sort of letter and nothing serious. But... he didn't quote look her in the face when he said it. What had his family told him in the letter? Were they mean to him again?

She couldn't concentrate on her studies and moaned, putting head down to the desk. Where was her husband hiding?

"Milady, his lordship asked to inform you that he would be away all day and you shouldn't wait for him to join you at mealtime," Anne said deferentially when she entered the study and brought a tray. "He also asked to bring you refreshments."

"Thank you," Kim sighed and straightened in her seat. "And how are you doing? Are you settled in? Who is watching the baby?"

"God bless you, mistress," the new maid said with a smile and served Kim a drink. "We are doing great. The cook's daughter is watching my girl. She herself had a babe recently. And you have three other maids, so I hardly ever need to do anything. Johnny goes to school and helps in the kitchen. And Master Jack put my husband to work in stables. There are some jobs that won't be hard on his back."

"Isn't he so thoughtful and great?" Kim immediately asked, happy to discuss Jack.

"Erm... If you say so, milady," Anne mumbled with a stutter, not understanding what so great about that constantly frowning young man with such reputation behind him. Although, when he was with Lady Isabelle he didn't look quite so glum and, if it wasn't for his mask, he would be no different from other noble-born masters. And sometimes he smiled very openly. One had to see it to believe it, it was so unusual. Anne shook her head: God worked in mysterious ways. When she married a fisherman, she didn't think her life would turn out so badly. Bad injury, little kids, and suddenly she was no more than a scullery maid to a stingy tavern mistress. And then, life took another sudden turn. A pretty young lady took pity on her family and hired all of them. Now they had roof over their heads, jobs that weren't breaking their backs, Johnny was even getting education... She was going to pray for Lady Isabelle and hope for her happiness, even if she was married to the Wolf.

Kim continued her refreshment break from studying and thought about her husband. She couldn't concentrate on books before her and she didn't even start to write her response to Lady Marshal, even though she received the letter yesterday. Somehow without him everything seemed to go wrong. And the evening was so far away, she was ready to cry. How did people live without instant communication? In her time, she could call him or text him and know how he was. Truly, this was torture... She missed him terribly and wanted him near, so she could see him and maybe even touch...

He came back so late, she was already asleep and didn't know that in the darkness he carefully touched her cheek with trembling fingers and pulled back, afraid to wake her up.

But she definitely knew she was happy when she saw him at breakfast next morning. She smiled and he returned her gesture. That day she didn't mind the lessons and made sure to send a servant with a message to him that he couldn't skip meals.

* * *

Jack was lying on the soft grass in the gardens, one hand under his head, and mindlessly watched the blue, cloudless sky. Sounds of nature filled the air. Here, under the shade of the a large willow that grew next to the pond, it was breezy and fresh and it was a great hideaway from midday sun. The day was warm and the elders were more in the mood to gossip and squabble like fishwives than to discuss serious matters. Tired of hearing who won a great horse while cheating at cards fifty years ago, or who slept with whose mistress twenty years ago, Jack stood up and left the library seemingly undetected. As far as he knew, Isabelle was busy with Mrs. Malone, so he had plenty of time before meal to relax at his hiding place. This little spot reminded him of the lake in Devon and a small boat he hid there. If they were back in Devon castle, he would have taken Isabelle on a boat ride around the lake. She would have liked it, he was sure. He wasn't exactly sleeping, more like daydreaming and imagined her laughing face from enjoying the boat trip. He smiled at this own imagination and sighed.

"Here you are!" suddenly her voice broke through relative silence and she sat down next to him on the grass. "I knew you were ditching the council."

"And why would you think that?" Jack turned to his side so he could look at her fully.

"The library is so loud right now, its obvious that you aren't there. Usually in your presence they are super quiet," Isabelle told him and looked around. "Oh, this is a beautiful spot. Gorgeous." He nodded to her in agreement. "And so quiet," she mused and her face was peaceful and pretty. He always knew she was pretty, but now he believed - no, he knew - she was the most beautiful girl. Not that he was a connoisseur of beauty. He didn't care about that. She was beautiful because she was perfect in his eyes. She was the only one with whom he felt at peace and comfortable. Like coming home after a long trip...

A sudden gust of wind brought a swarm of fallen leaves on them and long branches of the willow were over her, obscuring her from his view. The creak from above, the shadow over her, her sudden disappearance...

And his heart lurched into his throat. He thought a branch was falling onto her and he thought his heart stopped in fear.

He moved before the thought fully formed in his head and threw himself over her to shield, to protect, to hold, to never let go...

Isabelle fell backwards and looked up at him in confusion as what had happened. Jack was resting on his elbows by the sides of her face, knees bracketing her hips and he was crouched over her, caging her with his body. He was breathing hard from the recent fright and felt the cold sweat sliding down his neck.

"My lord?" she said startled and and her hands her pressed to the chest as he looked down on her intently. "What happened?"

"Isa-belle..." he croaked, not able to control his voice. "You... You... You're mine... Do you hear me? Mine. My person. And you can't disappear without my permission. You can't. You can't even die. I won't allow it... I won't let go..." he whispered feverishly like he was praying, like his words would somehow be willed into being.

Isabelle looked at him with wide eyes that were unfathomable and dark, like a night sky.

"My lord," she said gently and placed her hands on his chest. Not to push away. No. To connect to him. And then she placed one hand on his right cheek and her thumb gently moved over the skin. And Jack looked mesmerized, her touch settling him, her warmth quieting his fears... He stared down on her and the pull of her eyes was undeniable. Slowly he bend his head low responding to her call...

"My lord! Milady!" Somewhere very near them a voice broke through their spell like a thunder in clear sky. "The table has been set! It is time to dine, while the food is still warm. Milady!"

Isabelle breathed a startled breath, blushed hard, and tried to scramble to sit up. He had to let her go, so that she, avoiding his eyes, straightened her hair and dress.

But he, too, needed a moment to collect himself and settle his galloping heart. Not letting his eyes wander from her, Jack followed his wife on the path to the manor. He was walking a little behind her and tried to understand what exactly had happened.

What was it? An illusion? For a second he thought a heavy branch was falling onto her and it gave him a fright like never before. Even now he still felt the small quivering inside him. Clenching his fists, Jack tried to overcome the feeling of the sticky fear that overwhelmed him at the moment.

It turned out, and he understood it only now, he was forever tied to her. So much so that he couldn't imagine his life without her anymore. And his desires and feelings were completely uncontrollable and were driving him mad. Jack breathed gently afraid to disturb the volatile knot of emotions inside him.

So what now?


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Thank you for your kind reviews. I am back to the regular posting schedule.

* * *

Isabelle stopped so abruptly that Jack, consumed with his thoughts and feelings, almost ran into her. Only training prevented the collision. All those years of suffering through Hrodolph's lessons didn't go in vain. He managed to stop and looked at her in confusion. She stood with her head bent so low that he couldn't see her face - only her reddened cheek was visible to him.

"I don't know how you came to think that," she said inaudibly and he felt her trying to pry his fingers clenched into a tight fist. He quickly, without much thought, opened up and took her hand in his. It seemed to help his panicked thoughts to settle. Meanwhile, Isabelle continued quietly, "I am not going anywhere. Without you, I would be all alone."

He didn't quite know what she was talking about: her position in a foreign land or maybe... His heart hammered so hard, he could barely hear his own thoughts. Was she talking about...?

He stopped there, afraid to think heretic thoughts and simply stepped closer to her. Without further ruminations he silently took her by the shoulders and pressed her back to him. To reassure himself that she wouldn't be leaving he needed something more than just a touch of hands.

* * *

He only gave her a chaste back hug, with hands on her shoulders, but to Kim it was... Even though she traveled with him on a horseback for days and his embrace then was more complete and tight than this, back then she only felt his care and concern for her safety. But right now, this chaste hug, which was hardly even a hug, felt entirely different. Kim burned from the inside and she felt the blushed rise in her cheeks, ears, neck. She was short of breath, the air suddenly thick, and her vision was getting blurry.

Yet somehow this overreaction pushed her back to reality, not letting her drown in a very sensual response.

God, what a troublemaker he was! How could he do something so intimate in front of servants and in a broad daylight? The maid was a few steps before them. They were on a stone paved path of the garden, where at any moment could be many of the dwellers of the estate. This was too much. He was affecting her too much. She gathered her fraying self-control and gently stepped out of his half-embrace. But before he thought some dangerous thoughts about her rejecting him, she grabbed his hand in hers and squeezed him, telling him that she was here, with him.

"L-let's go and have our meal," she said almost normally and then, having one of her spontaneous ideas, she turned to him fully and leaned into his space. It worked as he froze and stared at her with wide eyes. _Ha, see how it felt when someone invades your personal bubble_ , she thought triumphantly. "And then, this evening, we can have a picnic."

"Pic- what?" he repeated the new word after her mindlessly, still staring at her like she was on fire. She enjoyed his look of complete disorientation and she swore he had some color on his cheeks. It was obvious that it took some effort for him to concentrate on her words.

"Picnic. Consumption of food al fresco. Outside. In the nature. We shall put our supper meal into baskets and shall sit down somewhere nice with a view. It would be great. And I promise not to disappear anywhere. Well? What do you think?"

* * *

Admiring her bright eyes, he couldn't help but agree.

"So you say we should finish out midday meal first? All right, let's hurry," he said with a smile and kept tight hold of her hand. He wouldn't let go as long as she didn't mind.

She didn't become wary of his unusual display of emotions, which almost scared him. Somehow she understood everything correctly even if he himself felt embarrassed to admit such fears. Especially to her. But... understand she did and wasn't it miraculous? Wasn't this the secret of happiness - to be understood? Maybe he wasn't too greedy?

The meal started in silence as the couple waited for the servants to leave. Anxiously fidgeting on the chair, Isabelle kept stealing glances at him. Jack seemingly enjoyed his meal and drink, appearing relaxed as if he had nowhere to go. Finally she had enough.

"Aren't you in a hurry to go back to the council?"

Jack raised a brow and spoke with mock hurt, "Are you kicking me out already? These are my quarters too, you know."

Isabelle snorted and scrunched her nose, "I have to learn bunch of new vocabulary and review at least ten pages of the ledger." She gestured to the desk buried under loose paper and one bound gross-book. "And this is just the beginning. I don't know why I have to learn so much so quickly. I am positive if I learn anything more, I'll forget something I already know."

Her pout was irresistible and he smiled again, "Well, you can't forget what you don't know. Like horseback riding or embroidery." He said it casually and was rewarded with her flashing eyes and pursed lips of indignation. "Or even the basic sewing."

"Are you trying to be funny? Is that it? Do you want to be a jester, then?" she said in a grouchy tone, intentionally avoiding looking at him.

"Jesters have to live at the court and I find the intrigues there to be too much for this simple man," he seemed to lose his jovial tone and Isabelle similarly became more serious.

"You should go and deal with the elders. I think they may have gotten complacent without you glowering at them. The faster you get them in line, the sooner you shall be free in the evening. And then we can have our picnic," she grabbed his hand and tried to pull him up. Jack resisted for show, but he, too, wanted to be done with the council meeting sooner, so he left for the library to 'scare' elders straight.

* * *

When it was late afternoon and the sun was dipping lower in the sky, Kim decided that it was time for their picnic. Quickly closing her book, which she tried to decipher all afternoon, she gave instructions for the meal al fresco for the waiting maid. That sorted out, she went in search of her husband. She found him alone in the library, leisurely reading some tome on Latin. It was obvious that he was waiting for her, because he jumped from his seat and took her hand immediately. She noted to herself that it became a thing for them to seek out physical contact when they were within reach. It was a momentary observation as she was all in anticipation of the upcoming date.

They walked leisurely on the path in the garden, enjoying each other's presence, when Jack made a sudden step forward and blocked her with his own body. Kim only managed to blink and stopped in surprise. There was a fearful _'oh'_ and Kim peaked from behind Jack to see Johnny sitting on the path and rubbing his nose. Kim giggled: it was obvious that the young boy was incapable of moving normally, always running everywhere and knocking everything in his way. Although this time it was he, who was knocked down.

* * *

Johnny realized what happened as soon as he looked up and, startled, he jumped up and gave a deep bow to Jack. He was bringing meal for Lady Isabelle, but instead managed to ran into Master Jack. He didn't want to think what sort of punishment the Wolf would exact.

"Johnny, what are about?" Lady Isabelle's voice filtered in and Johnny realized that the Wolf wasn't alone.

"The cook told me to bring your meal," he mumbled quickly and pointed at the basket by his feet, casting sideways glances at the Master to determine how mad he was. At least the basket was intact.

"Oh, very good. Say thank you to the Cook Leigh. So, it's all ready, shall we?" the young mistress spoke gently and at the sound of her voice the Wolf turned to her and smiled, completely forgetting about the clumsy boy.

Johnny stared, quite rudely, and even forgot how to breathe. The Wolf's teeth were very much like any other man's and not like those of the animal. Freddie lied to him! Freddie's dad was in the council and therefore was an authority on all things and people of the manor. But, obviously, not that much of an authority. Oh, Johnny would sort out that lying Freddie when he saw him again.

When Johnny came back to the kitchen he was pensive. Cook Leigh was a large woman with short temper and, while Johnny was tempted to ask, he wasn't sure if he should bother her. On the other hand, she snuck extra bread rolls to him lamenting his thinness.

"Well, did you deliver it?" the Cook asked him.

"Yes, milady was happy to see the basket and asked to thank you," Johnny repeated dutifully.

"Ha! No need to thank me," the Cook smiled, pleased. "All I did was put the same meal as always into a basket."

"What a strange whim. What, she can't eat at the table?" another servant grumbled.

"It's because masters eat with comfort. And what better way than to sit on the fresh air? It's not like us: we eat when we are free, standing like horses," another maid spoke as she waited for the tray to be ready.

"Yeah, and her whim makes more work for us," the first servant quipped.

"Is Lady Isabelle an angel?" Johnny finally voiced his question before grown-ups started bickering. His question made everyone look up and one footman dropped the load of firewood. Seeing everyone's attention, Johnny spoke quickly, "When she is near, the Wolf... He is different. Not as scary." He trailed off afraid that he spoke insolently about the masters.

But Cook Leigh looked perplexed and sat down heavily on the chair, which only she was allowed to sit on, "Huh... It's true." Then, looking at others for confirmation, "Before he used to darkened this place like a vengeful ghost, but now he even looks like a man. What if it's all because of Lady Isabelle? How did she manage to tame the Wolf? She's barely a woman, she's so young. Huh..."

* * *

Meanwhile, the unsuspecting subjects of the kitchen revelations, were consumed with their own adventure. Sitting side by side, away from the bustling servants, protected by trees and bushes, they were shielded from the world. Neither could recall what exactly they have eaten. All their attentions were focused on each other. They sat till sunset and then observed as early stars started winking into view. And then argued what each constellation was called, as they tried to located them in the sky.

It was in complete darkness that they made way to their rooms, tired but content. The day was so full of events and feelings that they barely had energy to say good night. Divesting from the day clothes, they both made themselves comfortable in their respective beds.

Kim lied in her bed and tried to quietly turned around. She didn't want to wake up her husband, when she couldn't sleep. Everything that happened today was keeping her awake. Especially now in the dark, all the events crowded her mind. His emotional outburst unsettled her own feelings that she tried to make sense of. She remembered his face during their date: his happy smile, his laughter, his eyes that looked more green than brown in the sunlight. How he frowned or looked skeptically. How he argued with her, trying to prove his point. All these little details were objectively the same as always, but somehow appeared new and exciting to her. Her heart melted at each memory. It was unbearable, especially when the object of all her restless thoughts was only couple of feet away.

It was unbearable. Kim sighed and turned into a tight ball trying to keep it quiet.

* * *

The market was full of bustle as always: people came here to trade goods and gossip. Especially interesting were stories about inhabitants of the Torquay manor. Only now, it wasn't the Wolf who was at the center of the fantastical tales.

"She said that? Just like that?"

"'Tis the truth. My neighbor heard it with her own ears."

"And the Wolf?"

"Nothing. He just said: do as the mistress wants."

"My, my, what a story," people reacted, sighing and disbelieving. They were gathered at the bakery stall as it had the largest tent.

"I'll tell you more," a middle aged man in simple clothing intervened. "They share a bedroom."

"Liar! Why would noble folks live like that?"

"I'm telling the truth. Sister of the husband of my wife's friend lives in the manor as the kitchen maid. She says they share their rooms."

"That's because the Wolf is so ugly, he's afraid that someone would lead his wife astray. So he put her where he can keep an eye on her," a haughty, young, and well-dressed man said pompously. Other young men, his friends, all exchanged glib smiles as if sharing a dirty joke. "But he can't guard her all the time, so when there is a chance..."

"Ha!" a large baker's wife yelped and snapped her towel at the man. "You are talking about married woman here. A lady. All you ever did was pay whores to like you. Go and brag there: you pay them to listen to you. If the Wolf hears you, he'd bite your head clean off your shoulders. He won't even need a sword."

The crowd laughed at the young man, the great seducer of wolves' wives.

"And I heard that," a traveling wise man in dusty clothes and worn shoes spoke. "...Baron Bruer was so tired of hearing about the Wolf's deeds that he sought to find him a wife so pure of heart that her light would conquer the darkness in him."

"Liar!" a few voices were heard.

"I went to Devon and York," the merchant, who stood nearby, said. "I heard that Baron Bruer spent a lot of time negotiating with the lady's family. Her clan tried to get a better bride's price: consider, such a fine lady to marry the Wolf. But right before the wedding, someone tried to abduct the girl!" People clamored closer and shushed others to hear better. "They say that someone wanted the Wolf to lose his soul to devil and kill all in his way. Torquay and Devon would have been drenched in blood!"

"Mary, mother of God, save us!" the baker's wife exclaimed.

"But the Wolf wanted what was his and went after the abductors, killed them all, and brought the girl back on his horse. People say he rode all the way to York to make sure the abductors don't find the girl. So, the wedding was set very quickly after her return and now she is here."

"Is the young mistress really so pure of heart?"

"No one born of a woman can be so pure..."

"I don't know about her pure heart, but I saw how she saved that old drunkard wise man and stopped the Wolf."

"It makes sense. Remember how many soldiers were in his escort? They must have been worried about abductors."

"And she got two village girls to be her maids, even when no one thought they were fit to clean the pigsty."

"And that scullery maid Anne and her family? She brought them into the manor."

People went on and on about all the strange and unusual things that Isabelle Bruer had done since coming to Torquay.

They were so engrossed, no one even noticed an older man of small stature, dressed in knight's clothes, listening attentively to the gossip.

This was Hrodoplh, the main knight of Baron Bruer and the one who trained all his men and both sons. Hrodoplh had a soft spot for the second son, who came to him looking more like a guarded animal than a boy. So now he was awfully curious. When the news of Jack Bruer's wedding came, Hrodolph was so shocked, he set out immediately to see his trainee.

When the servant brought him to Jack, Hrodoplh carefully observed an interesting picture. His student was sitting and near him stood a young woman with a married woman's netted cap. She stood too close even to his untrained eye. And either she was holding his hand or he was holding hers. And the woman didn't look scared. She calmly looked over at Hrodolph and the new trainee, who came with him. The boy - Jeremy, or Jerry for short - was still young and Hrodolph brought him out of the barracks to spare the little one some of the hazing he was getting.

Hrodoplh bowed politely to Master Jack and Lady Isabelle and, after the couple returned the greetings, congratulated them.

"Have you been shown your sleeping quarters?" the young lady asked quickly. "Let me take your young charge to show him around and I shall send a tray of refreshments."

The lady walked out, clearly leaving them to their conversation. Jerry followed the lady, who was telling him about the kitchen and how there was a boy about his age, Johnny, who could be a great playmate for him in the meantime.

Hrodoplh noted that Jack's gaze that followed his wife.

"You don't have to worry about Jeremy. He is young and little slow, but he is sweet and misses his mother. So your wife would be quite safe with him." It was obvious that Jack's attention was elsewhere, as he looked at this mentor as if surprised to see him again. "I heard that you have killed all the bandits that ambushed a caravan of travelers. There were ten of them, I hear."

Jack's eyes narrowed in subtle warning and said in a placid tone, "They had to die."

"Where did you learn to know from one glance who has to die or who gets to live?" Hrodoplh sighed. Jack still had to learn a lot, including about responsibility. Hrodolph wished he had more time with Jack. This young man was capable of great things and was a gifted warrior. His position in life as the son of a powerful baron gave him a lot of influence. Such power had to be moderated by morality and responsibility. And it wasn't as though Hrodolph himself was in the best position to teach those lessons. It was something fathers did. "Killing of live beings... It does not matter how long one gets to live, sooner or later we all pay for our sins."

"It was you who taught me how to kill efficiently," Jack responded with a calm smile.

"I taught you that so that you can defend people," the old knight said, but his student quickly cut him off.

"I have done so on the orders of my father. He has higher authority than my own. I am a dutiful son."

"I am surprised to see you back in Torquay. You always hated it here and made the deal with your father to never come back. Yet you are here without a fight. And apparently started to take over from the Ushers. I recall telling you to do so all the time you trained under me, but you wouldn't hear of it. I am curious, what has changed your opinion?"

"You came all the way here to just ask this question?" Jack looked at him in mocking disbelief. Of course, Jack figured what was the real purpose of this visit. "Very well. You can report that now it's not just me that I am responsible for. To take care of all those dependent on me, I have to deal with the Ushers and the Torquay."

"You have changed," Hrodolph said in surprise. Jack snorted and rolled eyes at him. "I mean it. You are more assured. More calm. It seems like you are standing firmly on the ground now. Huh... What marriage does to a person! Corneilles, they are a good clan. It is a good choice for you. Maybe an orphan bride is not the best, but at least you won't have split loyalties..." Hrodolph said it all in contemplative tone, but Jack was completely disinterested in his ramblings. "And you don't care about any of it. Ah, to be so young... Love, my dear boy, is not your whole life. Why are you looking at me like that? You thought I won't guess it? You look at your wife like she hung the moon. I may be old, but I now this look."

Hrodoplh saw as Jack's face quickly lost its surprised look and then something settled over his features. It was a look of determination. He knew it well. He saw it on Jack before. It was that look that told him that Jack was ready to fight for his newfound love, like he fought to stay alive.


	18. Chapter 18

Love? Jack didn't hear the grumblings of his mentor about youngsters and their belief that they knew everything better as if no one ever had lived through similar experiences before... He gently touched his palm to the chest, as if there was something incredibly fragile and precious that could be broken into thousands and thousands of fragments from one careless movement, and listened to himself. Was this love?

At the very beginning, she seemed to him an inconsequential and ill-bred person who did not even want to know the rules of behavior. He first thought that her amusing as she didn't fear him and he almost arrogantly assumed that he could scare her if he wanted to, that her lost memories were the reason for her joie-de-vivre. Later, he learned to appreciate her open nature an easy manners, her friendship and care. But then ... He remembered that day very well, when everything changed. He still remembered how, on top of the hill, looking down on the town that spat him out as unnecessary and burdensome waste, she took his hand and told him that she was glad he survived. By this point she knew all about his reputation, his family and his own character. Yet, she didn't see the monster. She saw a person, who had survived. She was glad he was with her. If his whispered prayers before were about being recognized by his family and being embraced as equal, after that day he prayed that she was well and continued to exist near him.

How was it that she wasn't judging him? She, who was so kind and fair? How was it that she wasn't afraid to touch his hand - a hand that killed? It that moment, with the few words, couple of phrases and a soft touch, she pieced together his soul and lanced the wounds that festered, slowly ruining him. It was then he understood that Isabelle was his fate. Not because they were married, but because he wanted to be with her however she would take him. That desire to belong with someone, to belong with _her,_ was visceral. Later, as she continued to remain by his side, undaunted by the rumors and the atmosphere of Torquay, he was happy to talk to her, tease her, see her grumble at him, hear her nag him without pretense. There were no false smiles or etiquette-mandated pleasantries with her. She smiled brightly when she saw him after being separated and he knew he'd protect her just to see that smile forever. He longed to touch her. He wanted to press her close to him, fully, from head to toe, shielding her from the entire world. To hug her like people in love woudl hug. To never let he go, to kiss her: lips, cheeks, her entire face... To touch her like a man touches woman in their marital bed. He wanted to give her pleasure. He wanted her to feel what he was feeling. To have these feelings returned. This life, the next life, for every existence they might have. Was this love? He thought of her constantly. Couldn't help not to, in fact. Right now, everything in Torquay reminded him of her. Their rooms, which were once only his. The winding paths of the garden. The library. Servants. Even town streets. Everything was full of her presence. Was this love?

Jack hardly understood feelings of people, but it was not at all important. All his affection belonged to Isabelle. And he firmly decided that if she accepted this love of his, he would give her everything he had. His stupid heart, his earthly life, his destiny and, although he sometime doubted it's existence, his immortal soul.

* * *

Kim sat on the embroidered pillow, that was placed atop of a wooden chair, and fanned herself leisurely. This was not what she expected from a grocery shopping trip. It was something that Mrs. Malone insisted they do because 'mistress needed to know what is procured at the market and at what prices, so no one can deceive her.' It was amazing how much energy the woman had. Determined to get the best for the manor, the woman dragged Kim all over the market and the town's shops. Kim, bored already, asked if they could stop, but Mrs. Malone gave one unimpressed look and Kim obediently trudged along. She just hoped that Jack appreciated all that she was doing in the name of being a good wife and lady of the manor.

But she really was tired. Not only from walking and heat, but also from the strange behavior of the townspeople. First, everyone turned to look at her and whispered. True, this was their normal behavior, so she didn't particularly care. But as soon as Kim went into the first shop, she was greeted with open arms like a birthday girl, seated in the most honorable place, served drinks, and was asked in detail about the purpose of the visit. Mrs. Malone was left alone to do her shopping. In the second shop everything happened again, then in the third - the same...

As a result, when Kim became the lucky owner of a fan of silk fabric, presented with the best wishes and blessings ('the weather is quite warm'), jasper rosary ('my granddaughter prayed with these to have children; now, every year she brings the boy'), a couple of terracotta figurines of a boy and a girl ('you need to put them on the altar and pray, then you'll see in your dreams which one you'll have next') and lots of other junk, which she had to refuse in a hurry with many of apologies, otherwise she would need a porter to carry it all. And every person, who saw her greeted her with deepest bows and pointed looks at her stomach. What was wrong with the Torquay people? Was there something in the water?

Kim looked longingly at the sky, then at the indefatigable Mrs. Malone, who did not seem tired at all and was scampering around the counters, harassing the merchant with her demands, and she thought of her husband. Obviously, they would not be in time for supper and she sincerely hoped that her stubborn husband would take care of himself and dine without her. At the memory of him, she could not help but smile.

As hard as it was to be in the wrong time, she was so happy that she was with him. She could talk to him, touch him, laugh with him ... Knowing his history and understanding the incredibly lonely and violent childhood he endured, she appreciated how reserved and kind he was with her. It was a testament to his inherently good nature that he didn't turn out to be an abusive and brutish man.

And thinking about it, she could only fall in love even more. She did not know that love could be like that. For complete happiness, she needed only the smallest thing: to hear his heartbeat under her ear, to have his hands on her shoulders, to feel the sure warmth of his body. Feeling the blood rising in her cheeks, Kim waved her fan, which was woefully not enough - to subdue her reactions to such forward thoughts in the middle of a crowded street.

This was when the proprietor offered her a refreshment of a barberry and honey compote and what tasted like a gingerbread cookie. Kim was so pleased with the tart taste of the drink and the familiar sweet that she ordered to have a regular delivery of it to the manor. The grocer bowed repeatedly, thanking some angel for the benevolence that would keep his family fed for months. Kim wasn't sure she understood everything correctly, but Mrs. Malone gave her a sly look and called her 'angelic Lady Isabelle.' Definitely, there was something in the water...

Kim asked if they were done for the day and together they started their way home, secretly rejoicing that the grocery shopping was over. But apparently, the trip itself wasn't over yet. A woman ran up to her and fell to her knees and began rapid mumbling, interrupted by crying and hiccoughs.

"What? What is she saying? Was does she need?" Kim asked, confused at the spectacle.

"She wants you to bless her child," Mrs. Malone said quietly, studying everything with keen eyes.

Kim looked at the kneeling woman and saw a small girl standing behind the mother and stealing looks at everyone. Kim fidgeted, not sure how to proceed, but a crowd began gathering around them and it was obvious that she had to move quickly.

Kim approached the girl, who was surprisingly calm unlike her mother, and squatted in front of her. The child fascinated her. For some reason, she remembered her cousin's baby, whom she saw just before they left America. Kim gently kissed the girl on the forehead, mentally asking Heaven that the girl be well and healthy. A wave of sighs passed through the crowd and the mother thanked Kim tearfully, kissing her hand. Kim was mortified by this. No, definitely the water was affecting people here. She decided it was time to go home.

She quickly passed through the crowd of respectfully bowing people, accompanied by the silent Mrs. Malone, who turned around several times without comments. But she looked very respectful. Still, Kim didn't even want to think about it now. Enough of her trips. She just wanted to go home. Having said goodbye to Mrs. Malone at the gates, Kim wandered to her quarters that met her long-awaited coolness and silence. Throwing all the gifted things on the table and dropping a couple of books, she stretched wearily, feeling some discomfort. She desperately wanted to freshen up to wash off the market dust - she felt sweaty, sticky and dirty.

Therefore, the appearance of the maids was greeted with an enthusiastic exclamation from Kim, who felt rejuvenated. With the help of experienced hands, she quickly bathed, dressed, and returned to the main room, where she found a fully served table.

"Master Bruer had dined with Commander Hrodolph," Rose explained and began serving the food to Kim.

She finished her meal and made her way to the chairs in the salon intent on waiting for her husband. But the exhaustion of the day took a toll on her and she drifted to sleep right where she was.

It must have been the odd behavior of people and, especially, a little girl who looked like her cousin, but Kim dreamed of her parents and their trip to Devon. She was inside the portrait gallery and before her was the portrait of Jack. He was a little older and his mask was made of metal. His eyes were serious and shadowed. There was the cross that she gave him and she smiled when she saw it. And then she turned to see a portrait of a lady next to Jack's. She was dark-haired and beautiful, but her eyes were hard and her lips were pursed. There on her hand was the star sapphire ring - her ring. What was going on? Kim looked down herself: she was in tank top and shorts. She almost blushed: how strange for her to see her own legs bare now in public. But then the incongruity of her own thoughts hit her. She was back in her time looking at the portrait of Jack and his supposed wife, who wasn't her. But wasn't she his wife? Wasn't she in his time? Who was this woman? Why did she have Kim's ring? Did she return to her own time and left Jack alone? Did she disappear just as suddenly as she appeared? Did she break his heart?

She jerked awake with a start and fell from the chair. Disoriented she looked around in fear. She was in a room illuminated by candles. it was already evening and Jack was kneeling beside her.

"Isabelle! Are you alright?" he asked her with concern and helped her up.

"This is all wrong," she whispered looking somewhere mid-distance. Reality was clashing with her dream and she felt strange - unmoored. Everything was different: she did travel back, but could she return to her time just as unexpectedly? She tried to calm down. "Everything is different. I should not be here."

* * *

What? What did she say? Jack forcefully tamped down the rising panic and heartache from her words and tried to calmly think. This was Isabelle: she always spoke strangely. He needed to know what she meant.

"You... Are you unhappy here? Do you wish to be somewhere else?" he swallowed the lump in his throat to ask his vitally important question.

"What?" Isabelle looked at him without blinking as if finally seeing him properly. "No! No! I am happy here. With you. It's something else."

She took his hands and dragged him to bed, where she plopped down in the middle and pulled until he sat too. And then began fidgeting and looked at him hesitantly.

"I don't know how to explain it," she began tentatively and looked pleadingly at him. "Please, just listen till the end? It's... it's complicated. You see, that day, when Broderick Carter found me on the riverbank, I didn't fall into it from the bridge... I jumped myself when I tried to save the boy from the lake in Devon. So..."

He kept looking at her uncomprehending. She was in the lake in Devon, only to be found in the river in York... It didn't make sense...

She saw his confusion and kept talking. "Well, I almost drowned trying to save him and then a wave pushed me out and I was in York. I mean, I thought I died..."

"What? You- died?" he didn't mean to, but the fear made him sound harsh as if she was doing it right now - jumping to save boys. Which she certainly would. He pulled her close and put fingers on her pulse point, reassured by the steady, if elevated, beat. He exhaled and thought to himself that he was going insane. This girl was driving him insane.

"I _thought_ that I died. But a wave of something has pushed me out and I was suddenly in the river, not lake. I made it to the shore. And then I had no idea how I ended up there and Broderick was there, speaking French, which I know, so... Ugh, and then I was brought to York because Lord Marshal is the authority there and everybody said I was Isabelle Corneille... And then we were married, which I am grateful for, because Frank Marshal is a disgusting pig. And I feel safe with you. You seem implacable and people fear you, but I don't. Even in my nightmares I am not afraid, although sometimes I drown..."

"You dream of me?" he said with a fragile hope.

"Of course. You are happy in them and you smile so wide... You know your one cheek is tanner than the other, because of the mask..."

Her last phrase lingered and after the initial jolt of happiness he realized something.

"You saw me without my mask," he said in half-question, half-confirmation. _She saw him without his mask._ He knew it, but still didn't want to accept it. She nodded and he hastily placed a hand over the mask, as if she could see through it. Jack recoiled. "When?" Actually, it didn't matter when, it was enough that she did.

"No! Don't pull back, please," she grabbed his arm and tried to hold him. Then she extended her other hand and placed it over his fingers still clutching the mask, trying to convince him that it was all right.

"How... How can you stand... Knowing... Having seen this repulsive face... How can you..." he spat out some words and swallowed others, barely holding himself still. He was shaking from fury. At his cursed fate, at himself, at his hated scars. And he allowed himself to dream, the fool.

"It's not true!" Isabelle suddenly exclaimed in a tone he never heard from her. "You are not repulsive! How can you think that I woudl think that? I love you!"

There was a deafening silence. He sat with his eyes wide open, speechless, without a single thought in his head and only looked hungrily at her face, although he did not know what he wanted to find. Isabelle blushed profusely, tears still in her eyes from the previous indignation, that he could think of her like that.

An awkward situation was put to end by an even more awkward one. He froze, sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning slightly backwards. And Isabelle was kneeling on the blanket, holding both of his hands in hers in a desperate attempt to prevent his escape, so her body was bent to mirror his. She tried to move her stiff knees mechanically, in the process pulling the hem of the gown too tightly. She lost her balance and collapsed with a frightened cry into his arms. Now they were both startled and perplexed, staring at each other, but for the whole different reason.

* * *

Kim would not have thought of leaving his arms, but she really wanted to tell him everything, explain and warn against her uncertain future. She had to explain her impossible origins. She had to. When they married they vowed to tell each other the truth... Carefully disentangling from his embrace and resuming her place next to him, she grabbed his elbow and looked in the face, checking whether he was angry or not. Jack seemed stunned, again, as he sat with his head bowed and his lips tightly clenched.

"You must listen carefully till the end of my story," she tried to make it sound like reproach, but it sounded weak to her. Suddenly, Kim felt like she could cry if he continued to sit there like this - uninvolved and unaffected. And then, to her own horror, she sobbed loudly. Jack's head came up at the sound and, taking one look at her, he frowned slightly and with his free hand he gently wiped the tear from her cheek.

"I won't interrupt," he said quietly, stroking her cheek again. This time it was a comfort and a caress. lIke she did to him after his nightmare.

* * *

The sensation of her skin under his fingers seemed so unreal, as was her story, which she hurried to tell him, still sobbing and tangled in words. Of course, the most surprising thing was that he unconditionally believed her. To all her words. And it did not even matter whether she sounded like some of those wise men speaking of the hidden _sidhe_ world, who claimed to be able to see the different plane of existence. He didn't care if she was from that different world or if she simply imagined it all when she nearly drowned. She claimed to come from the world many centuries in the future, where Anglia was a different kingdom and different royal family occupied the throne. She claimed that she was not from the land of Franks, but from yet unknown land, separated from here by a vast ocean. Still, it didn't matter how she was here, only that she was here now. With him. He was ready to forget all that the church taught him and become a pagan, because she was here: alive.

She claimed to know some of the event that would be still in future for him.

So, maybe this part sounded very unreal. If what she said was true, then he could believe that he would join the King in the Holy Land. What seemed lees likely was that he would become the next Baron Bruer. Why not Cai? Would his half-brother tangle in some intrigue that ends his life early? She said he would be a pious man, building abbeys. She said he would have a son...

She said she loved him...

He put that part to be considered later. It was just too big and it made him lose all normal thoughts. He had so many questions, he barely knew where to begin, ready to ask all of them at once.

"You said you can disappear to go back to your world?" he asked seemingly the most important question. Isabel- No, Kimberly, looked at him in confusion.

"I don't know what brought me here. I don't know what can send me back. I almost drowned and in my nightmares I am always drowning and I am afraid I'll never see you again..."

"You are never stepping close to any body of water. Ever!" Jack decreed and pulled her into his arms. The skirt of the dress was hopelessly wrinkled and Kimberly was sitting on his lap, while he held her waist and pressed her to his chest. She looked up into his eyes and he sighed. Finally dropping his head on her shoulder he exhaled.

"Are you trying to drive me insane? Is this your revenge for that time I grabbed you from the street in York? You can't disappear. You promised," he mumbled and held her even tighter. Kimberly hugged his shoulders, pressed one cheek to his and spoke softly.

"Do you believe me? Do you really?" At his nod she continued, "Are you not upset that I have impersonated this Isabelle Corneille. I am not even noble born back home. Just, you know, middle class high-schooler."

"I," he stressed the word meaningfully and skipping over the strange words, "have nothing to be upset about. I am only surprised that you, who came from this fantastical world of future, are not upset to be tied to me. That you don't think me a beast. You know that I killed or would kill if you know of me."

"You are not a beast or a monster," Kimberly said gently, her hands moving over his shoulders and neck, and he melted into this caress. "On the contrary. Everything you've done so far proves that you are human and humane."

"You are an angel. Or a fairy, right? No person in these parts agrees with you," he whispered back, enjoying the soft touches that she bestowed on him in reality, not just dreams, and feeling drunk from the sensation of her body in his arms.

"No, I am an average girl," she responded with a sigh. "And like an average person I get upset and misunderstand, so we will probably fight. But that's normal. That's what normal couples do."

He lifted his head to look at her. Normal couple. She called herself and, by extension him, normal.

"I always wondered how was it that you treated me so- normally. Now I know. You came from a different world. I believe you. I trust you," he smiled, and with a fortifying breath, continued "You can do whatever you want with me. From now on, I am yours."


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: I had difficulty writing this chapter, because I wanted to avoid modern day lemon descriptions. I also wanted to show the physical expression of their feelings, which are deep and intense. So, this is the result. There are barely any physical descriptors, so...

* * *

Kim sighed in amazement, feeling like a wave of happiness carried her up and up. Could it really be possible... Perhaps _these_ words were completely different from those that any woman wanted to hear from her beloved. But this was no ordinary man. And she wouldn't ruin the moment. She didn't need the L word. Words were just words. The main thing was what these words meant. And she knew what _these_ words from _this_ man meant _._ His eyes, impossibly tender, slid over her and then he bowed his head before Kim.

And Kim did not immediately understand what he was expecting from her. And when she did, she gasped and, with a hammering heart, slowly stretched out her hands. Gently holding the edge of the mask with one hand, the other quickly unfastened the knot on the back of his head. And pulled the mask down. Throwing it by her side, she did what she had long wanted. Her fingers, caressing, ran over his cheeks, cheekbones, and moved aside his long bangs to look at those eyes unobstructed. She saw such vulnerable openness in his eyes - he trusted her, but he was still nervous.

The scar, which she'd seen momentarily before, was like a jagged river that split in two and then joined again. It started almost at the hairline, followed down the forehead and split to two at the brow. One line went down the nose and veered at the bridge to the middle of the left cheek. The other bisected the brow and lid and restarted below the left eye. It was raised and dark pink.

But Kim could never see it as something ugly. It was noticeable, sure, but it was as if someone just drew it over his skin. He was very attractive and the scar made him look dangerous, not ugly.

She touched it with her fingertips, wondering how something so relatively small became the curse that this man had to bear alone...

* * *

For the first time Jack allowed someone to see his face openly. All of his face. Even the father and Hrodolph never looked at him so directly. He handed her all of himself, his life and destiny. And Kimberly... Kimberly looked as if he had not been mutilated, as if she really was an angel, who instantly healed him with one easy touch of the hand. Her fingers gently touched his face, his scars, erasing all the ills, pain and misfortune that haunted him all his life.

He felt like his heart turn into a huge fireball. How can a simple person sustain so much happiness? He closed his eyes to wrangle his emotions, which caused threaten to overwhelm him, and... missed the moment when her fingers were replaced by her lips. It was too much. Too much and not enough. He lifted his head and, quite without him realizing it, his lips caught hers. Kimberly froze, and then opened her mouth to meet him. And the whole world around, Heaven and Earth disappeared completely, leaving them alone together.

If he still had some doubts, then they all dissolved, burned in the fire of her kisses, her embraces, her incoherent whisper, that later turned into short sobs. He thought that even the most pious men would lose their minds from all this, let alone such a weak person as the mere second son of local lord. One of his hands held her neck, the second clasped her waist, firmly and securely pinning the fragile body to him. And Kimberly's lips called to him, not allowing for a moment to step back, not allowing to think coherently. And only after they parted briefly to gulp the air, he saw a happy look in her bright eyes.

The world was spinning... Or maybe his head was spinning from feelings and emotions that overcame his entire being. He clutched her tight to him - as tight has he dared - afraid to lose himself in this swift vortex of his feelings for her. Every time they touched was incredibly stunning, no matter how many times it happened. But now it seemed sharper, more sensual, more present and oh so much more exciting. He never thought anyone would become so important to him. He never thought he'd become so important for someone. He thought he'd be alone. Of course his fate came from another world and it was not clear if she'd stay here with him or be cruelly ripped away... But right now she was in his arms and their kisses erased all the differences between them.

He didn't think that she even noticed when her head touched on the down-filled bed. His hand, stumbling across a wide belt at her waist, pulled out an embroidered strip of cloth with one movement, opening the upper layers of the elaborate dress and revealing the clavicle and hint of decolletage. It was a previously hidden area for him... and such a vast territory to explore now. His head was surprisingly empty, all lessons literally flew out of his memory. He could only rely on his own instincts and listen carefully to her. Like, when her breathing stuttered, on the verge of moaning, when his lips covered a furiously hammering vein on her neck. His first reaction was to pull back in horror that he was hurting her, but her hands held him firmly by the collar of his vest and her head tilted to give more access. And he understood then - and it was a heady thing to realize.

By some miracle, he managed to unwrap his treasured girl from a silk cocoon of fabrics, skirts, bustles, and endless stays (and why was it necessary to have so many layers on one tiny woman?) and froze in a reverential admiration. She was gorgeous... No, she was beautiful... No, she was perfect... Words, all of them, were not enough. She blushed from his look, making him remember that she was a very young and inexperienced woman. Thqt this would be a first for her to share this intimacy with her beloved. And yet she affected him like she was the goddess of love herself.

* * *

Kim reached out again to his face. She desperately wanted to touch the bare skin, the layers of fabric on his shoulders so incredibly frustrating. But his lips, sliding over her shoulders, clavicles, tops of her breasts distracted, the feeling of sharp pleasure causing chaos in her thoughts. Every kiss was an oath, every touch was a promise. She mixed the"vous" and "tu," "my lord" and "husband," and then forgot everything except his name.

Her patience ended when she felt his breath on her hips. She pulled him to her, demanding kisses. Her insistence paid off as he hurriedly tore off his clothes, finally allowing her to feel him without barriers, feel more keenly, to hear his heartbeat that beat in harmony with hers. The touch of bare bodies was intoxicating, so much stronger than the strongest alcohol. The new and welcome feel of the weight of his lean body made her forget her own half-formed worries about how her own body looked. Instinct took over and her legs fell apart to welcome that weight. He sighed into a kiss, mumbled an apology that ended in another heated kiss and then all she felt was him on her, _in her,_ everywhere, filling her and the whole world, leaving no room for worries or doubts.

And she flew high.

His body was powerful and relentless. Kisses and caresses burned like a white-hot lava. And yet he eyed her seriously and carefully observed her every reaction. She could tell that he tried to be cautious, but she didn't need caution - she no longer felt the pain or discomfort. The whole thing broke into snapshots of sensation: like the the movement of muscles under her hand, the newly discovered landscape of the scars on his back, his heavy breathing burning her skin, the togetherness of their bodies, hearts, and souls.

She felt more and more flashes of pleasure coagulating into a hot wave that slowly rose from the very depths of her being, and she let go of that control of herself, of her voice, of her body. She could only helplessly press close to him, feeling distantly as his lips press fervently anywhere they could - her temples, cheeks, eyelids... And then the burst of brightness combined the pleasure and pain and she fell off the precipice, him following her soon after into the abyss.

Kim was incredibly happy and exhausted, tired and felt like she was a newborn. How else could this state be explained? She desperately wanted to stay in this cocoon of the bliss she felt, but she opened her eyes with an effort and gently freed her hand from their intertwined bodies. Jack raised his head at her movement, and she could not resist to gently pat his cheek. He intercepted her hand and kissed her fingers. His eyes were dark, completely wolfish, and Kim was sinking in their depths. But she wanted to sleep so much that she only smiled apologetically at him. And he understood everything. He always understood everything.

"Sleep," he whispered, shifting to lie by her side, and gently covered her shoulders with a blanket. And she obediently fell asleep, feeling a light touch to her lips.

* * *

The faint light of the morning sun barely touched the smooth wooden floor of the room, filtered thought the thick windowpanes of the manor. The new day was dawning and the second son of Baron Bruer was engaged in a very important affair. In all honesty, he did it since yesterday evening, distracted only by insignificant thoughts. Putting one hand under his head, he, without taking his eyes off, watched Kimberly sleep; listened to her breathing; and waited. He waited for her to wake up and open her eyes. He waited for her eyes to brightened with joy and her lips open for a loving smile. Only for him.

After what happened between them last night, he simply could not allow himself to fall asleep. _Kimberly in his arms_... He was worried that if he did fall asleep then all of this could only be a beautiful, incredible, delightful, but still a dream. No, he'd better not take that risk.

She said she was an ordinary person. If he hadn't been afraid to wake her up, he would have snorted loudly. Ordinary person _..._ He remembered his scar only when, accidentally turning around, he felt the touch of the cool leather mask, lost somewhere in bed. She threw it off so carelessly, that which embodied him almost all his life, as if it was something very insignificant. Jack - just in case - touched his cheek, to see whether the scar was there or not.

Feeling a thin, raised, uneven lines under his left eye, he smirked and laid down next to the sleeping girl. And for some reason he did not feel the usual bitterness. And this was her doing. His little wife: the restless messenger of Heaven. And he couldn't ever fathom what he did to deserve such a gift from the powers that be. How did he manage to win her heart?

She wasn't worried about his reputation and his cursed scar. Moreover, she wasn't repulsed by his body, which was far from perfect. He was a warrior and a commander, but not all those scars were from the battles with the enemies of the empire and the clan. Some were quite old and they, the ugly marks, pointed to his worth in the eyes of his family, equal to the worth of a slave or a criminal. But now he only remembered the sensation of her hands, when she moved them over his back. Very lightly. With her palm. More than once or twice. At that his thoughts flew in a direction very far from memories of humiliation and punishments he suffered.

No, those thoughts had to wait for now. To distract himself, Jack decided to think about what Kimberly had told him about her life in a different world. She was traveling in Devon and mysteriously ended up here. She had loving parents. A life in a place called America. And she was completing her primary schooling. Despite what she said about not being noble-born, he thought that she must be at least well-born. She was educated and spoke French, which wasn't her native tongue. The skin of her hands was soft and unblemished by callouses, which would have indicated hard work. She was slender, but not skinny, so her parents provided her well and she didn't know starvation. And she was kind and fair and tried to save a boy.

And this remarkable girl ended up here, in this harsh world. Almost drowned and then almost married off to Francis Marshal. He thought of what she would have to endure if she did marry that man - it was painful. It hurt so much that all his injuries seemed to be simple scratches. And yet her fate would have been worse if she wasn't mistaken for a Isabelle Corneille. She would have been subjected to a hard life of a servant at the whim of the masters she would have served.

It may have been his brother's twisted plan to exile him that made her his wife, but he was forever grateful. And he would not let her go. Never. Even if it was discovered that she wasn't a Corneille. She said that he, not Cai, would be a next Baron Bruer, so, perhaps, he wasn't as a cursed as everyone thought him to be. Jack did not know whether he would become a baron or not, but he would not allow anyone to harm Kimberly. Which meant he had to become stronger. Maybe it made more sense now that he became the next Baron Bruer. Before he wasn't ambitious beyond hoping for a basic safety and acceptance of the family. Now he was incredibly greedy. Greedy for a life with her by his side; greedy for all the comforts that she deserved and he wanted to provide; greedy for respect she was owed and he should demand from others.

He suddenly remembered Carter and his fawning over Kimberly and Jack clenched teeth in delayed jealousy. No, she never held the other man as more than a friend, but Jack had a horrible realization that she could have been married to other man and he, Jack, would not have even realized his own loss. Because back then he didn't know, couldn't know, what he would have been losing. To think that another man would have had her: her smiles, her courage, her forgiving heart, her soft body... He felt the phantom pain of that other, alternative Jack, who didn't know what it was like to have Kimberly love him.

She loved him.

His fingers ached with desire to touch her skin again, but he held back, not wanting to disturb her sleep. He only allowed himself to touch her soft curls that fell around her face, and brush off the hairpins that fell from her updo, so she would not get hurt. Along the way, his hand came across a cracked sheet of paper at the head of the bed. It was her homework. She was studying the local tongue and he remembered his gift of the notebook of his own making from when he studied French. He spotted the notebook on the desk and Jack could not stop smiling wide. He carefully left the bed and walked to the desk. Grabbing one piece of parchment, he slowly wrote out the words.

"Iċ lufie þē" - "Je t'aime **"**

"Iċ lufie þē ealnewe" - "Je t'aimerai toujours"

He might not be able to say them put loud yet - he didn't feel like those words could leave his mouth - but if there was love in his heart, it was all hers.

Finished, he returned to bed and looked at her. Taking his fill, because in the daytime she rarely sat still. And he tried to tamp down the usual fears that all good things in his life ended with the sunrise, because they were nothing but his dreams. No, she wasn't going to disappear in the morning. So he looked.

He looked because his eyes had a will of their own. He looked to admire, feeling that sweetly nervous anticipation to feel her touch, her kisses, to touch her again himself. Periodically, he began to worry that his hands were too rough for her soft skin, but she did not seem to mind ...

She stirred, gave a low sigh, which made him wary, and slowly opened her eyes. She blinked a couple of times sleepily and then she focused her more awake eyes on him. And Jack felt something explode inside, responding to this look of hers, forcing him to seek her with all of his being. And, probably, she felt something similar, because she reached out to him. It was as if they were separated parts of something whole, and now they were looking for each other to merge back, as if they shared thoughts were and their feelings were the same.

And these feelings were so many, and they were so strong that it was impossible to keep them all inside, trapped in their separate bodies. So they could only give and share, everything that they were, to the last drop, without regret, entirely, to the bottom of the heart, without restraint. And to receive the same in return. Words were not needed here. Only the touch of the lips, the movement of hands, the intertwining of bodies, the mingling of hearts and the breath, everything became one, shared by two. Even after parting, there was no way to separate arms. To continue feeling their shared desire, to see only happiness reflected in bright eyes, to glide fingertips, tracing the features of a loved one... Wasn't _this_ what was called Heaven?


	20. Chapter 20

A loud knock at the door, suddenly and rudely breaking into their seclusion, instantly destroying the magical world they occupied since last night. And then came the voice of the maid, "Mistress Isabelle! When should we set the table?"

Kim could not answer right away. Jack, startled from the sudden sound, quickly grabbed her, pressed her closer to him, as if afraid that she would be taken away from him now. She noted the stiffened muscles, could see the anxiety in the eyes and the tightly compressed lips. Kim stroked him soothingly on the cheek, kissed his eyes and hugged him, showing that she was not going to disappear.

"In ... well, an hour," she responded, estimating how much time they would need to at least break away from each other and not shock the public with intimate scenes.

Jokes aside, but her estimate was right, because at first Jack did not want to let her go, and when she with great difficulty persuaded him of the necessity of this - constantly tried to touch her, hug, steal a kiss. If it were up to him, they would return to where they started.

This undoubtedly unscrupulous man obediently let himself be combed, sitting quietly at attention under her hands, even smirking like a smug cat that are all the cream. However, when it was time for her to get ready, he distracted her from trying to pull hair in the bun, as was proper for any decent married woman. How was she supposed to pin a knot when he pressed insatiable kisses the moment her neck became visible? And yet, if he did step back, she was pulling him close, feeling abandoned. Having shown real miracles of acrobatics and sleight of hand, they managed to dress and put themselves in relative order.

As a result, by the end of the appointed time, they, already dressed, just kissed, trying not to forget themselves in a moment. That was to say that Kim tried, believing that someone had to act as the voice of reason. But all her good intentions crumbled to pieces, as soon as she felt through the layers of cloth the heat of his hands.

The servants knocked again on the door, and they had to release their hands reluctantly and exhale, returning to the real world. And to frantically search in the mess that was their bed, for the freaking mask, long forgotten by both of them. Undoubtedly, at that moment the lord of the manor was motivated solely by cares about the welfare and psyche of the servants. Jack was making terrible snarling face and hissed - because now it was Kim's tuned to actively hinder him and even giggle at his attempts to scare her.

Finally, slightly disheveled lord and lady sat in a very proper manner at the table while the servants arranged dishes and utensils. But judging by Jack's burning eyes directed at her, it was, in a way, a breather. As soon as the servants bowed and stepped away from the table in anticipation of orders, he waved his hand impatiently, sending them out of the chambers. And once the door closed behind the last of them, Jack got up and just pulled Kim's a chair, with her on it, to be next to him, accompanied by her startled cry.

Kim stared indignantly at her husband to see him respond with a perfectly innocent gaze.

"And what do you think you are doing?" she started her educational work. It's not that she was against such intimacy, especially after such a long courtship hampered by the tedious rules of proper behavior, but it seemed she never realized how impulsive he was despite being older than her. That, or he really didn't bother with propriety now that they were together.

Perhaps, if they were in the 21st century, she would not mind, but here she constantly had to remember that her personal life instantly became the property of a lot of people - she could tell how the maid were very carefully _not_ looking at the bed. And she did not know how to look at servants as if they were furniture.

Jack lowered his head to hers and looked like he was trying very hard to concentrate on her words and not her lips.

"Do you think I am a doll, to drag me back and forth? And why did you pull me so close? By the way, you know that you ... you ..." she hesitated to finish under his heated gaze and tried to find a suitable definition. Finally, she exhaled, "-are very hot."

"By the way, you did not complain about it earlier," Jack said with such a smug smile that Kim already got indignant.

"That because it was not during the day," she exclaimed angrily, but stopped, glancing at the doors, and slowed down the tone. "Then it was not so warm. With your body temperature, you could be a furnace in the winter."

"Oh!" said Jack, with his head bent to his side. "I get your meaning. You're just very cold and that's why you insisted on those shared horse-back rides. But you know, you could have just asked me to warm you up." He smiled again, which made his last words sound so suggestive to her that she blushed. But she wasn't going to give up her argument.

"And people think I have strange manners. You are just lucky that no one says anything to you because you glower and snarl and, in general, do anything you can to be left alone. Don't think I haven't figured out your tactic," she said accusingly and pointed an index finger directly into his nose. "You can get away with that, but I am supposed to be a Stepford wife here, so a little help would be nice. And behave in public."

* * *

Jack sighed, correctly deciphering an unfamiliar term, and mock complained, "Always with lectures from you. I should have known from the wedding dinner that you like to nag. Tsk! So young, and already so cruel."

Gently intercepting her hand, he leaned close to her, fascinated to see her eyes change from indignant to something magical. He knew that, perhaps, he was putting too much pressure on her, but he could not help it - it was unfathomable to let her go even a couple of steps. So what of he did silly and inappropriate things? He would not apologize. How could one apologize for having feelings? What good was his fearsome reputation if he couldn't flout a rule or two?

Her breath tickled his cheek, and Jack stared and stared. He saw that look on her face before, but it only caused complete confusion. Now he felt himself unconsciously reaching out to her, wrapping his arms around her body just as she opened her lips to meet his hungry lips... And quickly recoiled with burning cheeks when her empty stomach loudly protested against such frivolity when the table is bursting with different delicacies.

"Do not you dare to laugh!" she cried, when the amazement on the his face gave way to a full smile. "It's all your fault, actually!"

"All right, all right," valiantly, he suppressed a chuckle and pushed plates of both bread and cheese at her. "If it's my fault, then I need to fix it. Please take note that I am a very caring husband."

Kimberly gave him a suspicious look and haughtily took the utensils. Putting a bunch of everything onto her plate, she silently took up breakfast, ignoring his amused looks. He was very amused by this unaffected, easy-mannered behavior. And he did not want her to change at all. His heart squeezed every time with delight when she showed him her love, but her child-like unaffected side also attracted him.

Just to prove the point, his own plate was stacked under hers and she carefully fed him a piece of bread. It was a recall of their usual breakfast game, but now it was filled with different meaning. They shared a plate ( _no need to dirty more than one_ ) and even utensils ( _we already shared germs_ ). Kimberly was using these strange unfamiliar terms more freely and he wondered how much she had to suppress before.

When they were done and stepped away to let the maid clean the table, Kimberly sighed loudly.

"Today I need to go to Mrs. Malone's again for the whole day. She is worse than my math teacher."

"I'll see you off," Jack said, eagerly approaching her. He just really wanted to extend their time together even for a few minutes longer, knowing that the separation was necessary: no one canceled the day's duties. He took her hand and carefully interlaced his fingers. He looked at their hands with satisfaction: their hands resembled the two parts of the shell. He looked up and stared at Kimberly's soft smile. It made his heart sink again with happiness, and the warmth of her hand gave calm confidence -such a strange paradoxical sensation. "But before you go, I want to see the healer for your nightmares. It wouldn't do for you to be tired because you can't rest." Seeing her face he quickly added, "For me? I would rest easier if you did."

* * *

She only sighed. She did not see the point of fighting and arguing with this: it gave her a legitimate reason to spend more time with him and not with Mrs. Malone.

Residents of Torquay were already on the streets, wanting to do their business while the sun had not yet entered into full force. The have habitually parted before them. It was becoming a familiar, but still rather surprising sight - young Wolf dressed in decent human clothes, and not the usual all black outfits that made him look like an wraith, who came to sow death and collect souls. He walked peacefully along the street, trying to choose shaded areas. He walked slowly enough so that his young bride, who was accompanying him and who he held by the hand, did not have to run after him. People remembered the recent rumors - someone believed, some did not - but all bowed respectfully, after clearing the road before the couple.

The young lady in question felt like she was on a date. To go around the market with Jack was a complete pleasure. It was still rather cool this early in the day, but even if it were warmer, she would have tolerated it for the sake of the joint trip. It was so normal to wander around together, hand in hand. She imagined she would have done this back home too. And Jack's presence made the usually tedious trip to the market, so much better. Firstly, no one run up to her and begged to come and look - just one look, milady! - at this and that. And secondly, the townspeople did not bother them with stupid questions and strange gifts (and yes, she had to get used to the fact that here her personal life wasn't her own private affair). Instead, they only silently stared. And of course, no one put her in an awkward positions, like asking to bless a child. She certainly didn't want to be in any of those again.

However, maybe Kim was too quick to think this was a perfect date. She forgot her own propensity for finding adventures in the most mundane circumstances. Although, this time, she could confidently say it wasn't her doing. Mostly. Well, a little bit. She sensed a familiar sweetish-tart aroma. And she turned her head in search of the merchant or a shop that dealt in aromatic oils. If she had a real rose oil, then she would be able to make more of the favorite skin-care remedy as she was running low. And without thinking twice, she let go of his hand and darted in the direction of the enticing scent.

But she not the only one busy and on the mission. She was so preoccupied with her plans that she forgot to look around. Mister Langley, the steward of the house of the chief town elder, puffing and wiping himself with a handkerchief, diligently escorted porters who were dragging a huge human-height mirror, not allowing anyone to get close to a precious purchase. He was a rather fat man, so the unprecedented heat affected him more than others, blessed with slimmer physique. So the hired porters, who huffed and sweated, trying to carry a heavy and fragile cargo carefully, but also quickly.

And so far it went swimmingly and they handled their task well. However, a young apprentice from the nearby shop was sent with an urgent message. The apprentice, young enough to miss the freedom of being a boy, ran so fast that even in a crowded street he did not slow down, pushing the others out of his way.

And nothing would have happened, if not for Kim's luck. And so, the paths of these three absolutely unconnected people intersected on one small patch of dirty road.

Jack did not have time to blink when his surprisingly nimble and restless wife managed to break free and walked somewhere purposefully.

And then everything suddenly turned into a bad dream.

One second - and she was already a few steps away from him. Another second - and she was flying through air seemingly to meet her reflection. The horror of this sight almost made his heart stop beating. It seemed that time had slowed down, leaving only seconds before the disaster, but it was enough. He lurched forward, grabbing her in his arms and a moment later he heard the crackling and clinking of that glass breaking under his back.

And then they were falling...

The long-suffering city of Torquay shuddered and froze in dead silence like before the storm.

"Are you alright?"

"Are you okay?"

They simultaneously exclaimed, anxiously peering at each other for signs of damage. She froze in his arms. She suddenly felt like reality started to reflect her persistent nightmares in some distorted macabre fashion. Because she was watching her own reflection when she was falling into water. And now she saw herself again, falling onto the mirror. Until Jack...

"Ma petite Belle," he gently shook her, calling softly to her and pulling her out of the memories of nightmares.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she hurried to assure her husband, recovering a little and looking around, trying to understand what had happened.

People, as usual, quieted down, clinging to the walls of shops and houses, two commoners cautiously retreated... The boy who collided with her, froze as if he turned to stone, only his eyes grew bigger. Next to him a frightened fat old man, in a rather worn brown clothes, stood motionless. The couple was sitting on the ground, with Jack in the middle of the sea of glass fragments, the shards sending cheerful lights that sparkled in the sunlight. It looked like tiny sharp grains of rainbow winked at her from the his clothes and even from his hair.

And she hurried to brush them off, carefully watching that nothing was left. But before she could complete her task, he caught her hand by the wrist and shook his head.

"You will cut yourself."

"But you are-"

He snorted impatiently, pressed her to his chest as a child, and somehow managed to stand with her in her arms. But that was only the beginning.

* * *

He was still shivering with terror. Not for yourself. He could not get rid of the vision of her small and fragile body spread over the sharp fragments and her light clothes rapidly turning red. He managed to get to her in time. For once, he snarled at the idea that he was cursed. He wasn't. But Torquay was. Or would be. Enough! He had enough of this cold place that hated him for so long. He wouldn't let them hate her too! Nobody dared to harm the one person who loved him. For so long they called him a monster and a wolf, was it not time to finally show what these words meant?

Uncontrolled anger fogged his vision and poisoned his mind. The boy, who did the unthinkable thing, saw this, felt it keenly. He collapsed to his knees, plaintively howling. He was scared, he did not know what the Wolf would do to him. Jack also did not know: he had many ideas that became more and more tempting by the second. But he was distracted from them when a cool, gentle hand was laid on his right cheek, turning his head away from the potential victim of an execution to face her troubled eyes.

"Please, stop. He is not at fault," Kimberly spoke carefully, pronouncing each word, without fear. Her gaze, calm and very mature, wise, knowing, drew all of his attention and made him listen to the words. "It was an accident. I was not hurt. All is well. Think about it, no one here has a reason to harm me. We're not in the manor or Devon or York. And you cut yourself."

He touched her hand, still lying on his cheek. At once, the square full of people and a boy, who was crying in earnest now, all disappeared somewhere far beyond the edge of consciousness. He wondered if she touched like this when he was battling, he would have stopped then too. But he was glad she never saw him with a weapon drawn. He didn't want her to be marred by any strife and blood. It was enough that he was in that blood up to his ears.

He exhaled. And the fury slowly receded. Fine. Let the boy be. And she was right: he didn't need to protect her from these people. These people would not dare to harm her. He closed his eyes and opened them again. And then he threw only two short words.

"Get lost!"

The words shut the boy up and he disappeared from sight in the cloud of dust. Last were seen his teary eyes on a smudged face, showing his disbelief in his own fortune. The sight for some reason reminded Jack so much of his own childhood that it was sickening. And he turned away, concentrating all his attention on Kimberly, who carefully bandaged his wrist with her handkerchief. Why was she doing it? He did not even feel the pain. The answer was obvious: because she love him.

Suddenly he felt lighter and happier than he had any right to be. He wanted to laugh out loud and spin her, holding her tight to him. Indeed, she was the messenger of Heaven.

* * *

Although she was a victim - almost the main victim in this accident (the most affected was a boy who accidentally ran into her, unable to react in time) - Kim felt surprisingly calm. Yes, she was frightened at first, but then, realizing what actually happened, she was worried about her taciturn husband. This was the guy, who slept on cold floors without a word. So, naturally, he would not complain about a cut.

Fortunately, the only wound that her ultra-vigilant savior earned was a long scratch on the back of his wrist. Having applied the first emergency aid, as she was taught at one of the first aid classes held by the school (really, just tying his wrist with her handkerchief) she raised her head and frowned in surprise. Jack's face was now completely peaceful and relaxed, and his eyes held a certain fire that was bright and something else, not entirely apparent to her. Well, at least it was not a desire to tear all those present into small pieces.

"We need to go see a doctor," she reminded, because, apparently, he was in some sort of fugue state and reacted solely to her. But this could be sorted out somewhere in a quieter place. Jack, hearing her voice, just nodded, again took her hand as a matter of course, and silently led her farther, to where they were heading initially. She figured that the residents will sort themselves out as they left without any further words. The main thing is that all remained alive.

As soon as they left, the market at once turned into a buzzing hive. The apprentice boy, who reappeared from behind a stall, having hidden himself sighed with relief, smearing dirt on his face. The people surrounded him, somebody consoled and congratulated him for his luck, someone scolded for this idiocy. Mr. Langley tore out hairs from his beard, waved his hands, expressing his grief, and helplessly jumped around the mirror fragments. People discussed what had happened. They were in a hurry to share with those who had not seen anything. The lady was pushed, and the Wolf saved her. After all, if she had fallen on that mirror ...

It was at this point they all began to scold the steward, who engaged in such dangerous things such as carrying mirrors, in public and crowded places. But all thanked Heaven in unison for the fact that the Wolf had such a wife. She stopped the Wolf from the bloody massacre. And clearly was not afraid of him. And how she chastised him, and how the Wolf was respectful with her. They all seen it! So the rumors were true.

But then someone voiced something that only ripened in the minds of the rest. Nothing should happen to the lady. Only she was their defender and a shield that guarded against the cruelty of the cursed Wolf. Who knew how this incident today would have ended, if it were not for her. Whatever their relationship was didn't matter: it was clear that the Wolf was attached to her and cherished her more than himself. And only the gods knew what would come if anything happens to her. Only one thing was certain: it wouldn't be anything good.

They saw the promise of it in the Wolf's eyes when he looked at the poor boy. The real embodiment of the nightmare. Monster. And yet, after the mistress intervened, it was as if the boy stopped existing. And how did the young mistress could stand such a husband? Or was she really one of heavenly creatures, famous for their mercy? Verily, Heaven favored Torquay by sending this unexpected messenger at such a time.


	21. Chapter 21

There are such rumors in the world that could spread around a huge city from the most humble shacks in the slums to the rich chambers downtown in a matter of hours. Especially, if the main character of the rumor was someone who was mainstay of gossip for many years. And the reactions to the news of the angel calming down the beast were as different as the people themselves.

The oldest lady of the clan, Lady Leona laughed, wiping away the tears in her eyes. She was echoed by the round-faced abbot of the monastery, who was her favorite god's man. Her daughter-in-law, Lady Katherine giggled, gently covering her mouth with her sleeve. It was she who brought an entertaining story, which she heard from the maid, that today she went to the market and excitedly retold everyone in the kitchen to listen. Lady Katherine decided to immediately tell her mother-in-law about it. Although it was believed that Master William was the head of the Usher clan, but everyone knew who was the real master.

Mrs. Malone, who was on hand to confirm the rumors that spread among the servants, was serving the women and every now and then would purse her lips at the laughing crowd. These ladies had no idea the power of the faith simple folks put in Lady Isabelle.

A knock came at the door and the respectful voice of the young servant said that the head of the clan himself had come to visit his wife. Lady Leona quickly wiped off all traces of laughter from her face and, waving her handkerchief, leaned back against the pile of pillows hanging behind her. The abbot adopted a serious expression, and Lady Katherine stood up, depicting respectful attention.

When Master William entered the chambers of his wife, he only saw that a priest was there and it must mean that they had another pious conversation going on. Of course, there was more to that relationship: Lady Leona liked the priest for the inherent trust people put in him. So when necessary, she'd instruct him and he would preach and plead for actions that were good for the Ushers's cause.

Still, Master William didn't want the god's man to hear their discussions.

"How are you this afternoon?" he asked politely and bowed to the priest.

"Same as always, my lord. And pleased that you came to visit me. What is this? A second time this month that you came to see me?" Lady Leona said a little tartly. She had cared little for attention of her husband (after all he had a lover in town), but she was dissatisfied with his handling of the Wolf.

Master William winced inwardly. He, too, cared little for his wife's attentions and cared even less for her advice. But... She was the Usher by blood and he was in this position by marriage. He needed a cordial relationship with her and she was good at the underhanded tricks every now and then. And he needed her advice now.

"Milady! Please desist. I came here to talk seriously with you. Your complaints about me could wait," he said indignantly, resolutely passing to the chaise-lounge on which the lady was reclining, and sitting down at her feet. He folded his arms in a determined way, indicating that he would not go anywhere until he completed his business here.

"Now, you are being stubborn," Lady Leone pressed her lips in annoyance, sitting up more upright. "What do you want? You took your own counsel lately, and now my advice is needed?"

"I came to talk about Lady Isabelle," Master William said, ignoring his wife's discontent, hoping to get help from her. "Have you spent much time with her? Have you heard what the whole town is now talking about?

"Ah, you mean that the wife of the damned boy is an angel sent from Heaven?" Lady Leona inquired in a bored tone, as if it were so ordinary that it was not worth it, not even that such excitement, but also a simple mention. "So what?"

"What do you mean 'so what'?" the portly man snapped his teeth. "It's ... it's ... What do you have to say?" he turned to the abbot, as a person who was in charge of religious issues in general and angels in particular.

"Um ... What can I say? How can a humble monk determine which soul the great deity has chosen?" said the priest in a cadence of a prayer, raising his pious gaze to the ceiling. Master William automatically lifted his eyes after him. "The dogma of the church states that ..."

"Why are you trying to make me madder?" shouted the man, shaking and clutching his chest, feeling that a little more - and he would have heart palpitations from rage. "You, dear wife, how can you take it so calmly? This monster, this useless mouth we fed for years, he is already trying to take everything into his hands. He's always there, watching and watching. We can't breathe or sigh without him knowing and now this? I worked hard to get rid of him for years, and you can only say 'so what'?"

"Oh, show some sense, husband. I say 'so what' because it is just a rumor and as quickly as i'st formed, it can disappear just as fast," Leona sighed and the priest nodded along. When William didn't show any understanding, she snorted a little at the imbecile. "If provoked enough, the Wolf would snap and lash out. And no 'angel' can stop him. Or how about the drought and a poor harvest? Where is the divine blessing in this? On the contrary, maybe this is the punishment for the heretic thoughts that equate a mere human to an angel? Am I right, father?" she finished addressing the priest.

"But the harvest isn't quite so bad as you say..." Master William began and Lady Leona just rolled her eyes heavenward.

"Isn't it though? Can't it _become_ so?" she said with a heightened meaning and it dawned on him what she was saying.

"Oh, yes, yes... If the harvest is lean and it happens while the Wolf is in charge, then..." and he bowed his head at his wife's cunning.

Mrs. Malone loudly placed a cup in front of Master William and it brought attention of the couple to her.

"What is it, Mrs. Malone?" William asked politely, his affection for the woman obvious.

"You tell me, Master William. How many times I told you to treat the boy right? How many times I told you not to cut your nose in spite of face? And now you thinking to do it again? What do you gain with him weakened? Nothing! Torquay is his no matter how you wish it not to be. Even if he is gone, it will go to Cajus Bruer and _that_ boy cares even less for you than Jack."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you had all this time to make Jack more Usher than Bruer, but you didn't. If you tried even a little, then you could have had Torquay all to yourself. That boy only wanted a family and now he got it: with a young lady. I tell you more, he is strong already and with her so well-liked, he can even become the heir to the Baron. And then you would have had a powerful relative. Instead you got the man, who barely tolerates your lot. If you do something to mess with him and he finds out, you know what he'd do. And you still have granddaughters to marry off."

They sat in silence, Mrs. Malone's words left them reeling.

Master William got up to leave, "You gave me much to think of."

Lady Leona turned to Mrs. Malone the moment her husband stepped out, "Why can't you keep your mouth shut?"

"I care about Master William and his son," Mrs. Malone said defiantly. "You and your Usher pride are going to be your downfall."

The housekeeper left too and Lady Leona fell back onto cushions. The priest patted her hand softly.

"You can try and hedge your bets, madam, if your plan with the harvest doesn't work." She looked at him in askance. "I didn't think that young Master Bruer had any need for a family. But if what Mrs. Malone says is true, then he is just a man like most. Men are easily tempted, weak as they are," he left it hanging.

"Donna was useless. The girl was terrified of him."

"Your Clair, she is an ambitious girl. So much like you yourself, milady. Baroness Clair has a ring to it, no?"

* * *

Clair was called to her grandmother's side and she prepared her most recent piece of embroidery for inspection. Grandmother Leona was a harsh critic. In truth, Clair thought it was all useless: any number of her maids were better at it than her. But it was considered a necessary skill, same as a neat handwriting, and she dutifully did it all. She wanted to marry well and marry soon. She remembered meeting Lady Bruer and Lady Marshal and she wanted what those ladies had: they had carriages, numerous servants, expensive dressed and influential husbands. They had respect and fear of people around them and Clair wanted it all. Unfortunately, she was stuck her in Torquay, where her best bet at a great match was Cajus Bruer. Not that he was bad match. He'd be a great match, but he was elusive and seemingly had no interest in marriage yet. Still, she diligently paid him attention, which was mostly rebuffed.

"Ah, there you are, at last," Lady Leona beckoned her to come closer. "Show what you did." Clair smiled sweetly at everyone present and unfolded the silk board she held in her hands. Approaching her grandmother, she gave her a light cloth with a bow. The lady slowly and meticulously surveyed the colorful embroidery and wrinkled her brows in displeasure. "There is a mistake here, too. It's no good," the old lady said sternly, pointing out the flaws."Re-do it."

"Grandmother, but it's not noticeable at all. If I alter it once more, the fabric will become unusable," the young lady tried to get rid of the tedious duty, blushing at the fact that her blunder was discovered.

"It's okay, then start with a new cloth."

"But, grandmother ..." the girl, peevishly exhaled, dejected. "These are small mistakes, completely invisible. Lady Isabelle does not know how to embroider."

"And she does not need to be able to. She is already married advantageously," the old lady said.

 _"Advantageously?_ You mean that Jack the Wolf is a good match?" Clair's brows were raised high.

"Well, he is a son of a baron set to inherit the very place we live in. With any luck, he can inherit the entire barony. And he is good with a sword. Were he to go to the Crusade, he might win the king's favor."

"Grandmother..." Clair never thought of the fearsome man in such terms.

"Lady Isabelle might even be called Baroness Isabelle in the future, were something to happen to Cai. So, yes, she married well. Too bad she likes to traipse around town by herself a lot. There are so many bandits around," Lady Leona shook her head in consternation. "Go and re-do your embroidery."

Disappointed by the new task, Clair slipped an unnecessary cloth into the hands of her maid and hurried down the path to the garden. She had to find something now to console herself and soften the disappointment that she would have to sit down again for the hated hoop. Clair walked to admire the beautiful plants and enjoy the shady coolness. But, hurrying to turn around the corner, she screamed with a frightened cry from a surprise. And from understanding who she almost collided with.

But it looked as if both Lady Isabelle and the Wolf, who at that time looked quite surprised and guilty, obviously did not expect that someone would come across them. They strangely recoiled from each other in different directions, as if...

Soon Lady Isabelle quickly recovered. She easily smiled and bowed politely. Jack, recognizing Clair, lost interest in her immediately, much to her relief. His hand, slipped down the sleeve to unerringly find his wife's hand to hold it tight. And Clair, stepped aside with a bow and remembered the gossip that her maids were excitedly sharing, rolling their eyes from a maidenly horror. At the time she smirked at them for believing such nonsense.

But seeing them together, she wondered...

In reality, she was terribly afraid of the Wolf. Of course, as a child, she heard a lot of adult conversations about the bastard son of the clan, but she and other children of family were forbidden to communicate with him. Similarly, they were forbidden from approaching the quarters of the mad Lady Usher. Of course, they were afraid at first to look at his scarred face.

And then everyone was whispering about the boy himself. Monster. Cursed. Beast. Of course, the children were very curious to at least look at the one they are constantly talking about, but the adults began to fear him more and more, and the damning talk was heard more and more often. Therefore, by the time she had her first full conversation with the nightmare of Torquay, she knew enough about him. And what she saw just confirmed all the rumors. And his appearance was like his black soul. Thank God, they met very rarely, despite the fact that they lived in one place.

Yet Lady Isabelle did not look scared at all. And even somehow easily took to sharing her husband's quarters. They were often seen together. The Wolf was never rude to her and even indulged her desires, such as giving her the maids she wanted and hiring the entire family in town. Clair went back, cautiously stepping along the path after the pair, and stopped in the shadow of the low trees planted around the courtyard.

The couple, it turns out, went to the housekeeper's room and now it seemed that they were saying goodbye. The girl did not hear the words, but it all looked as if the Wolf was delaying his parting from Lady Isabelle. The lady smiled happily to her husband, and easily ran up the steps to the entrance to the manor. The Wolf remained for some time standing and watching her go, and only after a while turned around to go in the direction of the library.

The girl suddenly felt a burning envy of Lady Isabelle. No, not to the fact that she was the wife of the Wolf, God forbid. It was of the freedom that she possessed while being married. It seemed that she really was happy. And well-dressed. And, of course, she was not forced to do any sort of unnecessary tasks. Lady Isabelle wasn't much older than Clair herself, but had people listening to everything she said and Clair herself had to bow to her first. And she could become the next baroness Bruer.

* * *

Having seen Kimberly off for her lessons with Mrs. Malone, Jack went to the library. Commander Hrodolph and his new charge left the day before, with many bows and best wishes. Jack wished his old mentor stayed a little longer, but he suspected that he was wanted back in Devon for a report on him and his life in Torquay.

Of course, he was genuinely grateful to the Commander for having taken the trouble of caring about an unwanted and contemptible boy, back when there wasn't even a hint of his future wolfish reputation. And Hrodolph taught him well enough that Jack didn't have to worry about his safety. Relatively speaking, of course. But even Hrodolph didn't know his heart, like Kimberly did. Jack understood that whatever Commander's feelings towards him were, there was a long-standing loyalty between Commander and Baron Bruer.

And it was alarming - Jack did not know what his father wanted from him. He did not understand the man who was considered his father. Those crumbs of attention for which he would have given his life were outweighed by gloomy years of exile and indifference. And Jack worried about how the new state of affairs of his marriage would be perceived by the Devon court.

Court and clan politics was like a sticky web, in which one could easily get confused and get stuck. What laid on the surface and seemed simple and understandable, had a lot of complicated and hidden roots, which an ignorant person couldn't even imagine. His marriage was from the very beginning a signal of his exile and punishment. But what would the Bruers thinks of him being selflessly in love with his wife? He knew only one thing: no single person in this world would want to make his life easier. Except for Kimberly. So, if he was going to fight for his happiness, then he must understand these clan politics. Therefore, no matter how much he wanted to go back to bed and Kimberly, he went to look for the elders or, at least, Master William.

But, strangely enough, his plan was thwarted. When Jack approached the library, he heard the sounds of a fierce argument, which stopped immediately as soon as he stepped into a spacious room. The elders, led by the portly Uncle William, looked at him as if he were a ghost, who appeared to snatched their souls.

At first, they all quieted down and began to look at him so that Jack suddenly felt like a prize bull at the fair being judged as worthy the considerable expense. And then again they argued fiercely, no longer paying any attention to him.

Jack raised his eyebrows in amazement. It seems that these respectable elders spent too much time indoors and they, instead of discussing the clan's affairs, started an all-out argument. It seemed that any minute now they would pounce on each other with their fists and begin to tear each other's beards. Clearly, today he'd accomplish nothing here, so Jack shrugged his shoulders and left the room. Closing the door behind him, he could hear them mention of the name of his father and brother.

Since he had never had any duties other than what he took on himself, Jack decided to return to his rooms to wait for Kimberly's return. Noticing the books spread out on the table, he took the first volume and slowly pushed through the pages. History of the reign of ancient princes? A strange choice of literature for a girl with a meaningless political status. But, as long as he had nothing to do, Jack thoroughly immersed himself in reading - self-enlightenment was always the main source of his knowledge.

Kimberly returned to dinner, thoughtful and tired, but only when she saw him did she light up again. Politics, a possible fight with his family and the future have been discarded and forgotten, like fleeting dreams. And in the evening, sitting comfortably in each other's arms on the wooden planks of the pier, they watched the sky slowly change its colors, enjoying the sunset and the coming coolness of the night. The beauty of the night was made even more precious by constant touches, casual and intentional, fleeting kisses and looks full of understanding.

* * *

"Kimberly," Jack asked quietly. "You said I'd be the next baron, but does it mean my brother dies? How? Will he go to the Crusade?"

"I- I don't know. Why?"

Jack was silent for a moment, "I don't want to fight my brother for the inheritance."

Knowing the particulars of his childhood, she suspected that he still desired, at least once in his life, to be accepted by his family. His brother included.

"Cai is ambitious, you know. He- I heard him talking to Francis in York. He trades on his influence already..."

She didn't want to reveal it now, but she suspected that Cai was part of the coup by Prince John to supplant King Richard. And, if she remembered correctly, their father was dragged into it to. Was it how Jack became the Baron? Because participation by other Bruers was discovered and they lost their positions? Could she change the course of events if she said anything now?

"You know something..." he breathed. "But won't tell me."

"In my world, there are all these movies and stories about time paradox and the prime directive of not interfering with the alien worlds," she said quickly only to see his uncomprehending look. She sighed, "I can't tell you certain things, especially the big historic events."

"Will I have to fight him?"

"What would it take for you to fight him?" she countered. "If he plots against your father? You? The king? Me?"

She didn't say more, but he understood. His eyes widened in shock and he looked at her intently and a certain acceptance settled in him. He was giving up his hope with his brother.

"I will fight him for all those reasons. I will kill him for you."

He kissed her then with a hint of desperation, painfully squeezing her fragile shoulders, no longer measuring his strength. This frantic kiss was almost an exact opposite of their first. But she understood its meaning, although she did not quite understand the reason. Kim was not afraid and only wanted to comfort him, only hugged him more, not paying attention to the pain that he unconsciously caused her. And, it seems, he felt it. Feeling her response, his fury and violence were hushed, his lips touched her now in gentle caress, as if asking for forgiveness for the forcefulness before.

Then Jack stepped back, looked into her eyes and picked her up, as if she were a weight nothing. Kim wrapped her arms around his neck to stop letting go. This man, who she didn't expect, but who she now loved, was her fate and she wanted to be with him with all her heart.

In the meantime, all adversity, future and present, were pushed aside by the flaring passion that overwhelmed them, causing tremors of want run down their bodies. Giving into each other, dissolving into each other. All doubts, fears, black melancholy disappeared in the arms of the beloved. Troubles became so small before the urgent need to confess their love with movements, touches, voice, everything.

With a loud bang a suffocating mask was dropped on the wooden floorboards, and the clothes fell apart with a slight rustle.

And the night flashed brightly for them again, consuming them in the vortex of gold and purple, like phoenix.


	22. Chapter 22

"You are leaving?"

Such a seemingly simple question was uttered in such a disappointed tone that Jack could not help smiling. He reached out and gently touched Kimberly's cheek. He was terribly pleased to touch her face. And even more so that she allowed him to do it.

"Only for a few days," he tried to console her. He already began to miss her in advance and would never have left her for even few days, but common sense suggested that dragging her along the difficult road when she hated carriages and was still abysmal on horseback into a provincial town on the very outskirts of the clan lands would not be the best idea. "While I'm gone, you have to take good care of yourself. Do not walk in town alone. If you decide to save someone - don't do it yourself. Just order the servants. Do not forget to eat on time."

"Hey, I should be saying that," his wife said animatedly, pouting, and Jack laughed. A week passed since that wonderful day, or rather, the night, when she confessed all her secrets and - while he was still terrified that she might disappear into the thing air - he was so happy.

Really happy, like never before. All his fears and yearning were dispelled by the look of her radiant eyes, from the touch of her tender hands. It turns out that he, too, could be loved. It's so strange, to know, to see that he was the happiness of another person. Surprising and unfathomable.

Previously, he never thought that he could earn more than just acceptance of his family, and now ... Now that Kimberly said that if the parents leave their child it's not the child's fault, he believed her. Believed every word. And sometimes she nagged him, quite like mothers should, and it was terribly funny, but he always greedily took all the care, all the attention that she gave him. Even here, and this moment, he did not resist the irrepressible desire and leaned toward her lips, pulling her closer and feeling her hands clench the fabric of the tunic on his chest.

* * *

Kim, forgetting all the questions, readily responded to the kiss, clinging to him with her whole body. For them this whole week passed in bliss, love and happy bubble. Personally, it reminded her of the honeymoon. Movies made it out to be about location and adventures, but she knew now that it was all about the person - the most important person.

He followed her around, not letting her to be too far away and pulling her close constantly. He looked like a hungry dog who, having gotten into the house, could not believe that the food would not end any more, so he ate as he had grown accustomed to - like it was the only time of his life. At other times this behavior might have seemed needy and rather suffocating, but now she did not think to object. And she even asked Mrs. Malone about a break in classes.

If only because she knew this time wouldn't last long. The impending coup and King Richard's capture in the Promised Land, all of which would be happening soon enough, would require a lot of effort and involvement on his part and this was probably the precious time for the two of them. And, fearfully she thought, who knew when she might be pulled back home or if she lived long enough to see Jack ascend to barony. Life was harsh here and she wasn't oblivious to the resentfulness of Ushers. So she enjoyed these moments.

Still, things were a little precarious for them. Jack's behavior was overwhelming at times. It was as if unconsciously he tested the boundaries to which he was allowed to push. He would not stop until she was in his arms, even trying to hold onto her in his sleep, anxiously clutching at her every time she moved. She was a little surprised at the strange feeling of total power over him - these days he seemed so fragile and vulnerable that she was afraid of some kind of reckless act to cause him even more anxiety. But she hoped that everything would settle down soon for him.

Jack was too strong a person for this vulnerability to be so obvious for long. And although now he behaved like a lost child, soon he would get over it, get used to the fact that she was around, that she would not turn away from him, that she would not push him away. Kim tried to compensate for - if not the absence of maternal love - his lifelong loneliness and abandonment. Besides, who said that she herself was not enjoying this? Like right now ...

* * *

"So what happened?" she finally decided to return to the previous topic of conversation, when they managed to break away from each other.

Jack huffed, pensively running his hands on her back, "The affairs of the clan. There were reports of victims of an impending lean harvest. People trying to steal from neighbors. These are people of Cornwall and it's never calm between them and Devon. We need to check everything to prevent this from happening. And to see if preparation are necessary for the possible hungry winter," he said, remembering today's meeting with Master William. He could not get rid of the feeling that the elders did have a serious argument and his venerable uncle clearly got an earful from someone. Otherwise, why would he behave so strangely?

In the morning a servant appeared with the news that the head of the Usher clan kindly asked for a meeting. He was greeted with all polite obeisance and the bows were far lower than those disparaging formal nods that Jack remembered. He uncle withheld his usual fastidious grimaces, which he had recently managed to make sneakily and only when assured that Jack was distracted by something or someone else.

It turned out that Jack, as the "rightful heir" of the clan, as the uncle solemnly put it, had to personally check the disturbing news from the border area where the local elders bitterly lamented about the terrible losses. In addition to the necessary crew of soldiers and one of his uncle's cousins, Jack would be accompanied by the son of one of the elders. This son was clearly a scholar as he apparently was better with a quill than a sword.

This young man, a Mr. Jones, somewhat fragile in appearance, batted his huge round eyes, fussily fiddled with the sleeves of the new clothes, not knowing where to put his hands, and stammered terribly. It was not very clear whether it was from his nature so or from meeting with the Wolf.

"Please, take care of him, Young Master," Mr. Jones senior said, with a servile smile, looking at uncle William every minute, to which his uncle answered with an approving nod.

Jack smirked. He rarely saw the young representatives of the Torquay's first families, as if the precious offsprings had been hidden from the hostile influence of the Wolf. It made the presence of this young man all the more intriguing. The investigation task itself was the first serious indication of the Ushers recognizing his status. And they entrusted him with the young man's well-being, which meant that they trusted him. It was an interesting development. What had changed?

"And what is this all for?" he inquired from his venerable relative, casually leaning back in the chair, when all the others left them.

The uncle squinted at him first with one eye, just like a cat, then another, with an incomprehensible expression on his face, smoothed his mustache, but finally managed to answer.

"Maybe I'll have Donna marry him. Therefore, he must learn to understand the affairs of the clan," and with that his uncle also left.

Jack raised eyebrows in surprise. This was getting more and more interesting. Did they trust him that much now? Or didn't trust him at all and were sending a spy with him?

It didn't matter. Hatred of the mother's relatives burned Jack's soul like thousands of fires. He could not throw out of mind and heart all those years full of fear, pain and humiliation. He did not need their obsequiousness. He was more worried about letting them out of his sight. Who could guarantee that these people, who now grinned teeth in obsequious grimaces, would not rip his throat out like a pack of jackals, were he to turn away and drop his vigilance. He would not have returned here for all the gold, but ... But now he had his little family, even if it consisted of one single person. For better or worse, this was his and Kimberly's home now.

And if he could not bend this accursed clan to his will, then he would be cast out into the wild with his new wife.

Although Kimberly was not hated as he was, he knew that much. Glory to the gods. Silly superstitious crowds composed a new tale about him. They thought they would be able to hide this from him. Him? The one who was the mainstay of all the whispers and gossips in this land? How did they even find time and energy to come up with these tales? Jack could never understand it.

But the new gossip unexpectedly turned out to be absolutely stunning - a bloody monster was tamed by a virgin who had a heavenly pure soul. And only she could control him. Well, that was something... If people believed so, then he would see to it that this became the real truth. And rumors of this would spread throughout the kingdom. So that no one would think of taking his treasure away from him. Neither the greedy Ushers, nor the cunning Cai, nor his mother, who could not bear a drop of Jack's joy. Because to harm Kimberly would mean to incite the anger of the people. Even his hated uncle and aunt would not dare.

Still he instructed Rose to never let Kimberly go anywhere alone. He instructed Johnny to keep his ear to the ground and follow his mistress anytime she stepped outside the manor's gates. He even considered training Kimberly to defend herself with a dagger. He still might do it, but at present there wasn't enough time.

Having completed his immediate tasks, he realized that he was away for too long and already missed Kimberly. So he hastened to return to their quarters, to return to her. After all, tomorrow he was leaving.

It was decided to leave at dawn, to pass part of the way through the morning coolness. In the shaky light of the waking sun, Jack looked with regret at the calm face of his sleeping wife, gathering strength to leave her. But when he got out of bed, he realized that somehow he inadvertently disturbed her sleep. However, the now awake Kim didn't even try to fall asleep again. And he, of course, could not avoid her parting words.

* * *

"Why are you dressing in black again?" Kim was grumbling in surprise, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and pulling herself out from under the blanket with effort. Slipping off the bed, she followed him behind him as he gathered, frantically yawning and therefore looking like a sleepy kitten. "You'll melt in the sun."

"It's nothing. I can endure the heat. And this way I will frighten everyone at once - it will be easier after that," Jack said offhandedly and caught her in his arms. He kissed her thoroughly, enjoying her morning softness that felt so domestic. "Tell me, why did you get up? It's too early."

"To see you off, of course. Since you are not taking me with you," she muttered, confidently adjusting the collar of his tunic and vest and smoothing the folds.

"And to give me the necessary instructions," Jack said cheekily. She solemnly nodded, kissed him as a reward for his shrewdness, and ran to throw on some light clothes, in which it would be decent to appear at the courtyard.

Quickly tying the belt and twisting her hair into the most simple hairstyle, she returned to Jack, who patiently waited for her and who had already put on his mask and was ready to leave. Grabbing him by the elbow, she allowed herself to be taken to the central courtyard, where the horses were already harnessed and the traveling team gathered. Master William and the steward carefully followed the preparations, the soldiers checked their weapons and the young Mr. Jones hastily re-checked his bag. At the appearance of the young couple, all bowed together. It was time to leave, but Kim took his hand in hers, stopping him.

"Don't stay up too late, sleep well, eat until full," she began quietly, but her voice rose for the most important part. "Do not get angry in vain, be fair to others, do not take the sword out for trifling matters. Take care of your subordinates, do not demand the impossible from them. Work diligently. Take care of yourself and return quickly."

Now, after she heard all sorts of stories about herself, made-up by the commoners, and had plenty of time to admire the human imagination, she decided to brazenly take advantage of this reputation.

Of course, it appeared that the surrounding people did not object at all. All reverently listened to her speech in complete silence, as if she were giving a blessing. Jack smiled a tiny bit, which lifted the corner of his mouth. She could tell from his expression that he liked her stunt. He, too, was aware of the new folk tales and did not get angry. He quickly realized all the possible benefits and played up the new understanding of affairs in the young Bruer household with enthusiasm. It would be safer for her, he explained to her. Besides, now he had a new reason to tease her.

She knew him by now and was sure that were they alone Jack would have definitely kissed her, as he wished. But to do it publicly, would mean showing disrespect to her, he could not treat her like that, so he only gently stroked her fingers with his

"I hope, my dear wife, that in my absence you will be safe and in good health," he said aloud, but his eyes slid over Kimberly's head behind her, where she knew Master William stood. Once again his aura became commanding and heavy and she wondered how rarely she was seeing it lately. Right now it wasn't Jack talking. It was the Wolf. And his words and look were the warning and the promise. Whatever his uncle's expression was, it was sufficient for Jack as he smiled slightly. He looked at her again, looking intently and his eyes were soft and longing, and then jumped into the saddle. Having made sure that all his companions followed his example, he waved his hand, and the cavalcade, rattling horseshoes through the cobbled stones, left the gate.

* * *

Lady Leona was livid. Her useless husband had taken the words of that cow Malone seriously. And stupidly shared them with the elders. Those idiots cared about two things only: their safety and money. And of course, the promise of the heir to the clan who might ascend to barony was enough for those idiots and cowards. She shivered a little at the last bit. They were cowards, but she couldn't blame them: fear of the Wolf was strong among all who knew him. Lady Leona had attempted to rally some support to get rid of the boy permanently, but few would follow. The bastard survived several direct attempts on his life, killing all attackers with little damage to himself. And when she poisoned him, the bastard managed to live through and then trained his body to withstand most poisons. The worst part was his visit to her after he recovered. The boy wasn't even angry at her. No, she was too insignificant in his eyes to warrant anything other than annoyance. He even cheekily thanked her for giving him an idea about poisons. But then his eyes lost the false humor and grew so hard and oppressive, it was as if he held his hands on her shoulders and pushed her down.

'When you try to kill, you should always finish the job. If you keep sending men after me, soon there won't be any left to do your bidding, Aunt. Since there isn't a swordsman in Torquay who can best me and your poisons don't work on me, you should focus on something you are good at. I don't bother with Ushers and Torquay, so you have the free reign here. Is this not enough?'

And Lady Leona agreed: it was enough. Right at that moment she was terrified of the boy. So, yes, it was enough while the Wolf was alive and away in Devon.

But now he was back and taking over and his orphan wife was so popular with the useless commoners... Soon enough those imbecilic peasants and the elders would _want_ the Wolf to lead them. And Lady Leona didn't fool herself: for that to happen she and her family would have to go. Torquay wasn't big enough for them all.

She had to stop the Wolf from getting any stronger. She had to cut his support.

And while she couldn't do anything to him, there was one weak spot in his armor.


	23. Chapter 23

The elder of the small town Salcombe, a Mr. Turner, considered himself the most miserable person in the world. Which was expressed in his woeful howls. Not only did he stand in the middle of the dusty courtyard beneath the heat of the scorching sun, even the worthless servants were completely unwilling to understand him and stumbled headlong through the manor, raising clouds of suffocating dust that made the venerable gentleman cough. He even quarreled with his wife and daughter, when he made them leave the manor. Better safe than sorry.

And all of this was because of one thing: it was the time of collecting taxes. And what of taxes in this year? Between the too hot summer and so-so harvest, they weren't ready to pay a full value. Here, as a loyal subject, Mr. Turner wrote to Torquay about his situation, hoping that his woes would move the Ushers and Bruers to collect very little in a way of taxes. What he really hoped was to get away with a little lie and keep most of the harvest to himself. But then came the missive from Torquay: make it look like the harvest was very lean and blame the neighbors. And this pretense was for the benefit of the man coming to check the situation. Mr. Turner was torn: he was planning to pretend that the harvest was lean for his own reasons, but now he had to do it for the reasons beyond him. So, he thought he was quite miserable at the time.

"Master Turner!" his steward was approaching him quickly at a near run. "I have an interesting news for you."

"What else now?"

"I heard that the Ushers sent Jacob Bruer for the inspection!" the steward exclaimed.

Mr. Turner, formerly red and sweaty, instantly turned white, gray and shaky. He could be understood - who did not know about the Wolf, the damned son whose name was used to frighten disobedient children? Yes, they also said that on the arrival in Torquay for the last time, the man was so angry at being back there that he burned down the manor and almost killed the head of the Ushers right there in the middle of the main street, completely unconcerned by the huge number of witnesses. It was good that the young wife of the Wolf stood up for the poor Master William. The young lady was revered almost as an incarnation of the heavenly angel. Undoubtedly, she was that. If she had such abilities, then it's not surprising. Only Heaven knew what the damned boy could do when he was unhappy.

But the steward knew what he was talking about. He was very good at using opportunities when they arose. If one wanted to survived, he had to hustle. If one wanted to succeed, he had to hustle harder. Just look where he was now: from 'hey, you' to 'mr. steward.' So, the man took Mr. Turner's elbow and slowly moved him towards the house.

"It's actually good that Jack Bruer is coming. Consider, he is not liked by anyone and Ushers and Bruers don't value him as a potential heir. He hasn't done anything like this before. He won't know what to look for. Fooling him would be easy. And," here the steward whispered. "-we can fool him even more by treating him like a true prince. Let the boy taste what respect feels like. He'd be so pleased with us, he'd eat every word we say."

"But the claim that our neighbors are stealing?" Mr. Turner stuttered even as the thought took hold in his brain.

"Isn't it obvious? Ushers want the Wolf to fail at the clan matters management. And if he blames the neighbors and rashly does something? Well, then, even his venerable father would think twice about his value to the Bruer family."

Only now did the request from the Ushers made sense to Mr. Turner. Of course, if the Wolf failed at this and caused trouble with the people of Cornwall, his father just might reconsider who should inherit Torquay. He had to give it to the Ushers, they were always wily and now he could see how the family tried to hold on to their ancestral lands.

The Wolf appeared in the evening of the same day, so they barely had time to prepare an impressive feast. And he had to nearly whip the servants to make haste as this was such a departure from the previous plan. And then the news that it would be the Wolf, who was the inspector... Servants trembled, but were terrified to upset the feared guest. So, with effort, they managed.

However, looking at the masked man himself, Mr. Turner was close to trembling like the servants. All the rumors were true. Out of entire visiting party, he was the only one dressed in black robes in such heat, with a black mask on his face, his eyes devoid of warmth - in truth, a demon incarnate. And it was not even clear whether he liked that he was met with honor and deference. When the man in black deigned to look at him, Mr. Turner quickly looked away, so that the important guest would not be offended, that he was being so scrutinized. Rumor had it that he hated when people looked at him.

But there was no time to think, it would be wrong to keep the man on the doorstep. Mr. Turner scarcely glanced at other visitors - some clan boy and a familiar face from previous visits, Mr. Sanders. After personally showing the disturbingly silent Wolf to the main hall, Mr. Turner began to command the servants to bring in the celebratory feast.

Everything was done in the best way, even more so - it had to be prepared in a big hurry. The food was perfect, Mr. Turner was sure that it was certainly not inferior to the dishes that were served in Torquay. The wine was straight from the capital. The serving maids were dressed in the cleanest clothes and were the prettiest and youngest. Their dresses were laced tight and their collars were low enough that Mr. Turner himself was getting distracted by them. So far, only he himself was talking, with Mr. sanders occasionally adding a word or two. It seemed that others were silent, frightened by the presence of the Wolf.

Mr. Turner cast a cautious glance at the visitor and frowned in confusion. Something went wrong. The masked man ate little, only sipped his wine, and looked at the serving maids indifferently with some incomprehensible smile on his lips. What else did he need, the despicable Wolf? He was served the best on a silver platter! Where else would he be greeted so warmly? It was like the proverb went: no matter how much you feed the wolf, he still longs for the forest. Maybe it was necessary to prepare a gift? Him or his wife? Mr. Turner even thought about what he could give to the angelic incarnation, but could not think of anything.

It all ended when the Wolf declared that he was retiring. Before the sky turned dark! Naturally, it brought the end to all festivities and, truthfully, it was a relief. No one could enjoy themselves in the company of the dreaded second Bruer son. Mr. Turner walked him to his sleeping quarters and tried to get the sense of the masked man's mood. At some point he said that he could do anything to make the stay a success and the Wolf turned to him with the same heavy shadowed look that he was so famous for.

"You can pray for rain," the masked man said. "Do you know how to pray?"

With that he left a speechless Mr. Turner. Did he know how to pray? What did the Wolf mean? Fear and indignation was churning in him and he found his steward in a strop.

But the wily man only smirked and said that tomorrow would be another day and who knew what it would bring. The steward's face was so secretively smug that Mr, Turner relaxed: there must be a plan.

* * *

Jack snorted in contempt, watching as he town's elder hastily moved away. His teeth hurt from all the treacly words of praise. He dearly wished he could draw a sword to scare them into silence. The dinner was terrible! Moreover, he did not believe in good intentions of this gentleman - his eyes darted around too much and he gave signs to somebody.

Was this the way all the noble firstborn sons were treated? Then it was no wonder that brother Cai always was so disagreeable. Not only he had to listen to all the insincere praise - at times so false as to make one sick - he had to listen to it and try to judge why and who was pouring all this verbal treacle. And in addition, he had to act like all this was welcome by him lest he offended the allies and supporters.

He did not want to hear all this, but he tolerated, bound by the word given to Kimberly. In truth, he would have been more comfortable with a simple tub of water and a bed than a feast in honor of his arrival. Yes, even plain water instead of wine. But ... But he suddenly discovered that he was a factual, and not just the nominal leader of the inspecting party and that people deferred to him and not the representatives of the Usher clan. And Jack, like a young strong predator in a new place, enthusiastically tried to learn this new place and test his powers. And for the sake of this, he could diplomatically endure a tedious fuss around himself, losing his temper only at the end. After all, it didn't mean he had to eat or drink everything served to him.

With nothing to do at the feast, he looked around at the people and observed the abundance of young serving maids. Interesting. The local maids appeared as if they tried hard to please him. Their dresses were dangerously low and they bent even lower when bringing food and drinks. Jack wondered how quickly these smiles and bows would disappear were he to chose one of them for the night. Of course, these thoughts were strictly theoretical: he did not intend to do anything like that. These women didn't stir any feelings in him besides mild distaste, despite the beauty and youth. Although he now understood, thanks to the always fair Kimberly, that these girls were not in position to refuse anything and therefore his distaste should be reserved for the men in power, who abuse said power and coerced the maids into personal service. There were times when he understood little of the actual words she was saying, marveling at how different her speech was.

Chuckling, Jack entered the room provided to him and immediately was alert. He was not alone here. Looking around the room, which was dark in the twilight, he cautiously moved forward, ready to repel any attack. But he stopped, looking at the colorful tangle of cloth near the bed. It seems that the strange thing was alive. But since he was tired, and he wanted to sink down into the softness of the bed, Jack gently kicked the strange creature. That made the bundle gasp and squeal as it rolled away from him and unfolded.

It was a skinny girl with huge frightened eyes.

Jack quickly assessed the intruder and realized that she was not a threat so he asked, already starting to get angry at the situation.

"Who are you?"

The girl opened her eyes even wider, which he didn't think was possible, and opened her mouth as if to shout. He scowled at her and she managed to hold it in. Then she somehow awkwardly stood up and bowed deep.

"I- am- Julia," she stuttered, but Jack only waved his hand impatiently.

"I'm not asking your name. Why are you here?"

She shook and trembled and pulled at her clothes, "I- am- I- was- told... You- I- must- entertain-"

Jack, who was so annoyed by this intrusion and her stuttering, was ready to just throw the imbecilic girl out when he caught the last part.

And then the girl looked at him as if he should have eaten it alive, he finally realized what she was talking about. And only his promise to Kimberly not to be angry stopped him from not tearing this place down.

"Get lost," he hissed, not sure how much longer he could hold his temper. But the poor girl, who was apparently his entertainment for the night, fell to her knees before him and cried.

"Please- my lord- If I don't do it- The steward- He said- he would- Please, sir. I'd do- anything," her forehead was touching the ground and she whimpered piteously.

"Anything you say?" he said in the angry tone.

"Any-thing-" she said and looked at him in trepidation, her face so place he could see freckles on her nose. It reminded him of Kimberly and he signed in resignation.

"Find a corner to hide and don't show herself to me till morning. If I hear you at all, you'll have yourself to blame. Got it?"

The girl nodded repeatedly and crawled away into the far corner where a screen stood. Jack quickly finished his ablutions and fell into bed with a sigh. So far this trip was a disappointment and the 'entertainment' aspect made him mad at his host. What the hell was going on here? He thought that the place was suffering near famine and constant raids from neighbors. Instead he found a lavish feast and an elder with shifty eyes and questionable ideas for entertainment. Putting a girl in his quarters for 'bed sports' was distasteful, but understandable. He was more concerned with the attempts to sweeten him up with the feast. Something wasn't adding up: the man complained about poor conditions, yet nothing showed it so far. What was he doing here then?

He couldn't fall asleep for the longest time. Thoughts of the trip and the dinner and the girl were keeping him awake. But if he were honest with himself - he missed his wife and found that sleeping alone was very lonely.

* * *

Kim had a quiet breakfast and trudged to see Mrs. Malone for her lessons. Her language studies were coming along better and she was able to balance a few entries in the gross-book all by herself. She was hoping it meant that her load today would be easier. She was partially right: there were no new vocabulary words to learn and no accounting entries to balance. Instead Mrs. Malone gave a long-winded lecture on the history of Ushers and Master William's family. Mrs. Malone was a good story-teller, her face was animated and her voice rose and fell as the story went on. In her retelling, the Ushers weren't the miserable bunch that mistreated Jack. They were a proud family that lived in Torquay for centuries and came here during Norman time. Jack's mother was a delicate and beautiful woman with a fragile heart and mind, who couldn't handle being shunned by the society. Master William came out to be a serious man, who stepped in to manage Torquay when there wasn't anyone of age and who was capable of it. In his care, the lands were prosperous and Jack was the beneficiary of this good care as he was wealthy and the Torquay estate was a desirable inheritance. So desirable in fact, that Cai wanted it to himself. As did others, more connected to the land. This, Kim understood, included Lady Leona and her her son. Mrs. Malone didn't speak directly, but she 'marveled' at Lady Leona's dedication to studying herbs and their effects and how she could run any apothecary a run for his money. Why, Mrs. Malone wondered, they didn't need any mouser cats with Lady Leona around. The woman could brew any rat poison better than most. Mrs. Malone's eyes were so wide and comically shifty that Kim understood what was being said to her: Lady Leona was the one, who tried to poison Jack before.

Kim left the housekeeper's rooms in deep thought. Once again she was confronted with the reality of living in the time period when poisoning was an everyday occurrence and people like Lady Leona would avoid most consequences the way Kim understood them. Lady Leona was not likely to go to prison. Instead, if she succeeded, Jack would likely kill her. It was a cold comfort and she didn't want him to kill in her name.

She came to her rooms in time for a meal and, after looking at the food in front of her, lost all appetite. Maybe it was her uneasy thoughts or maybe because she missed Jack, she didn't want to sit in her rooms by herself. Maybe she could go to town and get the antidote? She remembered the healer's store and imagined she could find it again easily. She could even buy food there. She perked up thinking that she could also order more clothes for Jack and was so happy with her idea that she called Rose and told her to get ready to go to town.

* * *

They left on foot and little Johnny ran alongside them staying out of sights of the young mistress, just like Master Jack told him.

* * *

Lady Leona was informed that the young mistress hasn't eaten anything prepared by the kitchens. Before she could get disappointed, she heard that Lady Isabelle went to town with just a maid. This was the opportunity that she could use. A young woman only accompanied by one servant was an easy pickings for hoodlums and no one would suspect the old Lady Leona.


	24. Chapter 24

Kim hadn't anticipated what her new reputation would mean in real life. She was used to people parting for Jack, but now they did the same thing for her. People quieted down and bowed to her and she could hear murmurs of prayers as the went through the streets. Rose was walking one step behind her and Kim, who was talking to her maid all this time, also grew quiet. The reverential attitude of the crowd was strange, but, on the positive side, she got through the market faster than before. She stopped at the street vendor with meat pies and bought herself and Rose a few and the vendor almost refused to take money. Kim only reiterated that she should pay for the product as it was only fair and the poor woman bowed so low, she almost dropped all her pies.

When they moved past, the crowd quickly descended on the pies and they were bought out in seconds. Kim guessed that her reputation was good for business. Which made her worry that she might be favoring some over others. Should she buy more things from more people to be fair? This dilemma would have to wait after she had time to think, so Kim walked towards the healer's store with people gawking at her like she was a celebrity.

The healer fell over himself when greeting her and Kim finally put an to it by touching the man's shoulder lightly and asking him to dispense with pleasantries. The old man rose and looked over her face in searching fashion.

"No, don't worry. The old Mistress Usher hasn't come near me, so I don't need your excellent ointment. Although, maybe you can give it to me any way, in case I fall from the horse..." Kim spoke quickly and then confided to man. "I'm awful on the horseback."

"Of course, milady. Then, was there something else you wanted?"

Kim floundered a little at how to phrase her next request. The man kept looking at her attentively and she was losing her natural boldness.

"So... As a matter of precaution, not there is any real need for it, you understand, but would you happen to have an universal antidote? Since pumping stomachs is not possible here..." she trailed off at his sharp look. Then his face cleared and he nodded along.

"Ahh... Of course, does you husband want the usual set then? It has been a while since he used it. You know, bodies need to be constantly trained for it..." the man kept talking as he started assembling the small basket with vials, which he padded with fresh hay. "I have all the usual ones here and a new one. This one comes from Africa and is supposedly a venom of the most poisonous viper."

"A usual set? With snake venom?" she asked almost to herself and then recalled Jack telling her that he could withstand most poisons used in England. Of course! Living in Torquay with Lady Leona for a relative prepared him for the worst!

"Yes, milady. Your husband is diligent about his preparedness."

"Of course, he needs his poison tolerance," she said quietly and saw the man repeat the word 'tolerance' after her. "But, is there an antidote? I mean, I'd use the activated charcoal-"

"It's in a mixture, milady. It has the charcoal and magnesia and it works in a pinch."

The man didn't say more and went one completing the 'set.' Kim looked at Rose, who only nodded and had a grim expression on her face. Perhaps she, too, was disturbed by how normal was it for Torquay to have the _usual_ set of poisons and antidotes.

They left the healer's store, laden with purchases, and Kim shook off the gloomy feelings. She was fine and it was only because she was missing Jack that she was overacting to things.

Only she had to reconsider that conclusion when she found herself surrounded by very rough looking men.

It all happened very fast. She was walking towards the tailor's shop when a beggar run to her. Rose stepped in to stop him, but Kim felt generous and waved the maid off. She gave the man one of the pies and suddenly found herself surrounded by more and more such beggars.

It took her another five seconds to realize that they weren't particularly emaciated or frail. In fact, they looked downright menacing and slowly advanced on them. Rose tried to step before her again, but she wasn't a fighter and was even shorter than Kim.

So Kim, recalling couple of schoolyard brawls she was part of, tucked the hem of the skirt into the belt and took the fighting stance. It has been a while since she had to use her karate skills, but she was a black belt and did plenty of competitions.

The first man who lunged at her, she ducked and he run past her on inertia. She tripped him and he fell to the ground. Rose quickly hit him with her foot and he stayed down. The second attack was a coordinated move by two of them and Kim snorted. This was easy. The men were not martial artists and were relying on being close to her to use their fists. So she knocked them out with a combination of the kick to the head to one and a punch to the jaw for the second. The third attacker was armed with a stick and Kim managed to kick it out of his hold, although after the blow landed on her arm. Using the stick as a bo staff, she took down two more attackers, when the sound of many running feet was heard.

"Milady! Milady!" the young voice ran high and her attackers had a brief moment of hesitation. She used their distraction and hit one of them, who was close enough to reach.

Behind the fallen attacker she saw a sizeable crowd led by Johnny approach. The attackers, those still standing, ran - darting around corners and disappearing between the stalls. But there were a few still trying to stand up and the crowd descended upon them like a storm. They were grabbed and hit and their hands were pulled backwards and Kim had to step back from the melee. She untucked her skirt and was smoothing the fabrics lest she shocked the good people of Torquay. Her improvised bo staff fell on the ground, unnecessary.

Johnny run up to he and quickly bowed, "Milady! You are well! I was so worried. Master Jack gave me this order. He said, be good Johnny and keep your mistress safe. Oh, I was so scared I was late. But you are well. How? How did you-?"

He looked around in amazement and his gaze landed on Rose standing there with a basket from the healer and Kim looking like she just stepped out of her rooms. Even her hairdo was intact, which she attributed to Rose's exceptional hair braiding skills.

Kim looked back at Rose, who was aware of Kim's affinity to defending herself after the episode with Cai in York. Rose asked her at the time how was it that Kim knew how to repel attacks without weapons. Kim vaguely described her karate training avoiding terms like 'martial arts.' Rose concluded that life on the continent was rougher than in England and asked Kim to teach her a couple of self-defense moves. Of course, it had to be done on the down-low and Kim could not show off her skills as it was improper. So, it was not a surprise then, that Rose decided to save her reputation and hide her martial arts skills.

"The hoodlums fell over themselves when they tried touch the mistress. They were many and they tripped over each other," Rose said confidently and made wild eyes like she was still shocked. She shot Kim a sideways glance and raised her brows.

The murmurs of 'they couldn't touch her,' 'she is blessed' went around them.

Right... Kim had to play along.

"Oh! It was so strange. I gave this one man a pie and others came so quickly... I thought they were hungry and we didn't have anymore..." she spread her arms wide to show that she had no more pies and Johnny choked.

"You think they wanted food?" it was obvious he didn't believe in such innocuous intentions of the attackers. "Truly, you're an angel, mistress. You see the best in people. If Master Jack finds out about this-"

There was an audible gasp from the crowd and someone shouted.

"Send someone to Torquay! They better hold these lowlifes in chains until the Wolf comes back or we all are done for!"

From then on the entire ordeal became something entirely nonsensical. Kim was taken back to the healer to be looked over and the poor man stuttered and paled and gave her some tonic for general wellness. It smelled and tasted of rose hip, so she took it without fear. He saw the bruise already forming on her arm and liberally lathered it with this special ointment and lamented that she was just like her husband, showing up with bruises and scrapes. This reminded her of the fact that Jack was away and she better send him a note herself, before the official messenger gave him wrong impressions. But then she faltered: she knew and could trust only Rose and Johnny and both were not equipped to be messengers...

The healer was bustling about her arm and she realized her only chance was him. So she asked him to arrange a messenger that wasn't allied with the Ushers to be sent to Jack. She quickly wrote to him the summary of what happened, downplaying everything and promising that she was fine. Her purse was lighter as she paid the man generously and he bowed to her again and again.

Then she was taken to Torquay in a carriage sent by Master William. His son, young Master William, was her official escort and she almost refused to go with him. The timing of the attack was too opportune: Jack was away and Kim was vulnerable. She suspected the foul play immediately and had no desire to go with anyone who was related to that wretched family. She gave him suspicious look and pointedly asked Rose and Johnny to sit with her in carriage. It got her a lot of looks, but then it actually served its purpose. The spectacle of a mere boy and a servant sitting in the fancy carriage next to a high-born lady was so singular, they were followed by a crowd of children running along and calling to their friend. Johnny was filled with new importance and sat silent, but he shot her looks of gratitude and she just smiled at the boy, who thought so quickly to bring her assistance.

* * *

Early in the morning, Jack left his rooms and frowned at Mr. Turner who met him, again offering obsequious smiles. Next to him, the young girl tried to slip out like a mouse. But she wasn't unable to slip away from the vigilant eyes of the man and was stopped by his exclamation.

"Good morning, my lord!" Did you sleep well? I hope that Julia did not disappoint you. Were you satisfied?

Jack stopped and thought about it. Was he pleased? Well, the girl was quite clever since she did not cry, did not scream, and for the whole night he did not hear a sound from her, as if she were not in the room, as he ordered. So, all in all he was satisfied. He looked over the poor girl thoughtfully: she looked like a child in the daylight, even younger than Kimberly... And already had been thrown to the wolves by her masters. He suddenly came to a definite decision. For Kimberly or to show his irritation on the annoying elder, he wasn't sure.

He talked to the girl, "Collect the things and find my servants. Stay with them until my departure."

She only bowed in silence. What else could she possibly do?

"My lord?" Mr. Turner said, puzzled.

"Since you gave her to me, so be it, I'll take the girl with me," Jack chuckled, already enjoying this. The girl stared at him in despair, and cringed even more. And then he added. "I'll give her to my wife."

"What? How?" the man stuttered.

But Jack, having watched with pleasure as a flattering smile slid off his sleek face like oil in the sun and received his reward in the form of dumbfounded eyes (he did not take out his sword, but about verbal mockery? it didn't count, right?), turned around with indifferent manner and stepped to the main house, with his hands behind his back.

"Do you have any objections?"

But how could Mr. Turner have any objection? Of course, he didn't voice any, so so he just shook his head. "If this issue is resolved, I would be happy to look at your spending books," Jack finished and completely the last part completely crushed the stunned nobleman.

* * *

"Where is that lazy girl? the loud voice of the cook cut through the silence, interrupted only by ordinary working sounds, which always carried to the courtyard in any rich house. Although, right now, for the third day straight, there were no sounds of idle chatter, which the servants entertained themselves with, no laughter, or rude jokes. It seemed that the estate of Mr. Turner had died out. Servants tried to merge with the shadows, chatty girls and women kept their mouths, shut, not daring to gossip as they usually did.

Even the town fell silent behind the fenced walls, and the residents went out into the streets only for urgent needs. The merchants still hoped to sell their goods, but no longer beckoned to customers with noisy exclamations. Everyone was afraid of incurring the wrath of the cursed one that had settled here. But this embodiment of bad fortune did not have time to pay attention to them. Together with the gentlemen who came with him, he spent almost all of his time in the library, checking household books.

Julia breathed through clenched teeth and reluctantly emerged from her shady corner, where she waited away for the warmest hours, settling in a little corner on a cool stone. Once again something was needed. Since the Wolf declared her to be part of his household, all the other servants deferred to her the great mission of personally serving Jacob Bruer. Nobody wanted to bring him the repasts he wanted, to serve at meals or to clean up the rooms. Obviously, now was another chore for her to serve him the drinks.

Julia was a recent orphan and her life was sad indeed. Her mother was a maid in this same household, but died two winters ago. Julia was left to do the odd jobs in the kitchen and her life was hard, but predictable. That was until the steward noticed her one day. And then her life became hell. She learned to hide and scurry out of sight of the lecherous man, but she wasn't always lucky. And he always was handsy pinching her at every opportunity. The last time the girl could not stand such behavior and bit the hand that was holding her, to break free from the grasp of this disgusting man.

And then the steward decided to punish her.

On that day, Julia suddenly grabbed by a handful of maids, and no matter how she resisted, they dragged her into a room with a large bath of water, where she was dunked, and then they dried her off, not hesitating to discuss the latest news. She could only listen. And when she realized why she was subjected to all these ministrations, she almost died of horror. No, the fact that the Wolf would come - it was discussed all over the city since the bad news runs and good ones limp on both legs. And Julia knew her place as the insignificant servant to be sure she'd never meet the dreaded lord. But everything turned out to be horrible. The Wolf, it turned out, did not like all the ripe and pretty maids, whom Mr. Turner made wear indecent dresses and serve the guest. Therefore the steward ordered to give him 'young meat.' It was decided that the Wolf was too discerning and didn't want the 'used goods.' And thus Julia was the unfortunate soul chosen to please the fearsome man.

She was terrified and when the Wolf showed up and snarled at her, she thought her heart would stop beating. How she survived the night, she didn't know. When he calmly told her that she was now in his service, she was terrified anew that somehow he might have decided to use her in bed after all. But then he mentioned that she would serve his wife and she calmed a little. It was the conversation with one of his servants that made her at peace with her new fate. When she appeared at the stables, pale but unharmed, the older servant only nodded.

"Lady Isabelle forbid her husband from harming people unnecessarily."

Julia wasn't sure that anyone held any sway over the Wolf, but with each passing day she was more and more in awe of the mythical creature that was Lady Isabelle. Rumors of her travelled to Salcombe before, but now she believed them. Lord Jacob didn't ask any personal services of her. He managed most of it himself and she only had to bring him drinks and food. He gave her a few coins to 'dress' appropriately as his wife deserved the well-maintained servants. He even asked if she had family that would miss her if she were gone to Torquay. She asked the older servant what all that meant and heard the story of the entire family being hired because Lady Isabelle was distraught over separating mother from children. She truly was an angel.

The best of Julia's new position was the steward had not dared to come close to her.

* * *

"Ah, finally," Mr. Jones exclaimed when he saw the young maid with the tray of drinks. "Just in time. It's been so long that we have been staring at these books. Master Jacob, when are we going to go to town? Jus to stretch our legs a little? Maybe take a look at how things are in this town?"

Jack frowned at the talkative relative, but decided to listen to his suggestions. Honestly, he really was tired of these figures, which formed an unsolvable puzzle. Having occupied the library of Mr. Turner, he tried to sort out the books that the "hospitable" owner had provided to them. All the records were just perfect. Too much. On them it was possible to teach even princes. What led to certain reflections, which he shared with the young Mr. Jones.

"It's just not conceivable that there is not a single error in the accounting books," he told young man, shaking the book that he held in his hands. "People - they are not gods, they sometimes steal, or the entry is illegible, or they missed something, or took a bribe. Sometimes the goods rotted and the careless servants did not notice. And the defects creep out. Such a book, with errors and corrections, is the right book, where you can see the whole life of the estate."

Mr. Jones nodded and gave Julia a becoming smile. She started and everted her eyes, which necessarily made her look at Jack. He was looking at her directly and she served him the first cup with trembling hands. She barely avoided spilling the liquid on the table and gasped involuntarily. Jack was impassive, but Mr. Jones was not.

"Do you really need another servant, my lord?" he asked addressing Jack.

"Were it for me, I only need men capable of holding a sword. But my wife has other ideas," he answered.

"Ahh, yes, she is quite kind to commoners."

"It is a virtue," Jack said with a tone of finality. He didn't miss the tone of derision on young man's voice.

"Of course, my lord. Lady Isabelle is kindness herself," the young man bleated out looking away. "I- I shall go and find Mr. Turner. Perhaps he can explain some of these entries-" With that the man practically run from the library.

Jack sighed and sipped the drink. He dearly wished they could finish this inspection quickly, so he could go back to Kimberly. He missed so much, he didn't understand how he lived without her before. Of course, the answer was obvious: he didn't live, he merely survived.

"Sir..." a hesitant voice of the young maid drew him out. He looked up at her. "My lord, I- People don't always notice me and I tried to hide too, so..." She gulped and said very quickly. "I'm so grateful to you. The steward, he always wanted to- No, that's not it. I heard that they wanted to fool you into thinking that the harvest is bad and that we get raided by our neighbors. Only, the harvest is not abundant, but it's not terrible and our borders were peaceful. I don't know why- But, sir, this is the truth."

Jack leaned back and thought over what the girl was saying. It made sense considering his own observations, but to what end did Mr. Turner tried to lie to him?

"Why are you saying this to me? Aren't you scared of me?"

"I am. But you were kind to me so far and people say that your wife is an angel. I reckon that life woudl be better when my mistress is an angel."

Jack almost laughed at this. Instead he only smiled and the girl's eyes became big with surprise, "She is that. Thank you, Julia. I think you would like living in Torquay."


	25. Chapter 25

Jack hated the intrigue and spying, but understood that knowing things was akin to being prepared in the battle: only an idiot would charge into a fight without knowing who the opponent really was and what was their motive. To that end, even if he left Ushers alone and hated Torquay, he knew to keep himself informed about his hated home and ancestral place. He had mainly three sources of knowledge about it: his tutor Hrodolph told him about the mood and well being of the knights and other armed men; Mrs. Malone was reliably informing him about the mood of servants and townsfolk; and the occasional missives from Master William served as the negative proof of their intentions. These missives were to be read as the exact opposite of what they were trying to convey and in particular what they _weren't_ saying. He learned to discount all the polite language and discern little tidbits of information from them. Jack thought that being physically present in Torquay would remove the need for this method, but realized now that it was still necessary.

Naturally, there was the obvious reading of the situation in Salcombe: Master William was lied to by Mr. Turner for some gain. But Jack quickly discounted the idea. The man was too blunt and couldn't maintain such lie upon close inspection. So, then, it was the Ushers who made up this lie and asked the man to keep it up. Why they did was far more important to figure out.

Their fervent wish for all his life was for him to not exist. So, Jack easily concluded that this was a way to cut him down. Obviously, there was no physical threat to him here, other than him charging into a fight with raiding neighbors from Cornwall. Was it this simple? Ushers wanted him riled up and ride to Cornwall to pick a fight and, hopefully, die? It was so far-fetched that he quickly dismissed it. He wasn't the Bruer clan's sword and shield for nothing. It took a lot to kill him and some disorganized farmers and forest bandits weren't it.

Then, the Ushers were doing something more political. They wanted to cut him down in influence. This made a lot more sense. He was back in Torquay, asserting himself as an heir and they reluctantly gave him the reins. So this trip to investigate the poor harvest was to prove that he as awful at the clan issues management. He snorted at that. By doing so the Ushers revealed a very important detail: they now believed him to be the real contender to the barony. He didn't fool himself. It wasn't like he suddenly became likeable to the elders. It was most likely that they saw him as the strong lord with faithful troops capable of asserting a claim. And recently, he garnered respect from the peasants. Not by himself, of course, but because of Kimberly, who was so universally liked by the commoners.

That thought made him pause... Kimberly was well-liked by commoners. She was also well-liked by servants. Lord Marshal and his wife showed that they favored her too. With a wife like that, a previously odious figure like him - who was mostly prized for his skill with the sword - suddenly became a potentially fair and strong lord, who'd protect the lands and cared about its people. No wonder Ushers were so disturbed. They needed to prove he was incompetent and they needed to somehow damage Kimberly's good reputation...

And that thought made him chilled to the bone... All this intrigue to get him out of the Torquay and to investigate a bogus claim was a very convenient way to leave Kimberly vulnerable...

Jack strode to Mr. Turner's personal quarter, disregarding the late hour. The servants and two armed men quickly fell by the wayside as he knocked them out with his bare arms. When he kicked the door out of the way, he saw the man scramble off the bed where a barely dressed young woman darted under the blanket.

"My- lord-, what- a-" the man didn't finish as Jack grabbed him by the throat, his thumb pressing into the rapidly beating pulse point. He squeezed harder and the man gurgled with bulged eyes. "Ah- wha- plea- sir-"

"Did Ushers ask you to lie to me?" Jack asked. And then snorted, "Don't answer it. I know they did. All I need from you now is your written confession about it. And then I'll have no need of you."

He kicked the man's knee and the body went a little slack, hanging by the strength of Jack's hold on the man's throat.

The man's face purpled and he wheezed another mangled _'please.'_ There was a commotion at the door and Jack felt the approach of someone behind. He didn't even bother turning, his hearing guiding his moves. He used his still sheathed sword to knock out the approaching man and heard the muffled curse. A young Mr. Jones fell over and whined in pain.

"Master Jacob, sir," he whined. "Please, stop."

"Were you on it too? I'd say, you father is awfully cavalier to leave you within my reach when they set out to lie to me," he turned briefly at the young clansman and kicked him hard in the stomach.

"No! NO! I don't know anything! I swear, Sir! My father- My father thinks you can be a good baron. He thinks you can become a next Baron Bruer! Please, believe me!"

Mr. Turner made another choking sound and Jack saw the wet spot appear on the man's underpants. Jack scoffed, "If you intend to plot against me, you better be prepared to deal with the Wolf."

Jack let the man go and stared at the pitiful picture. Mr. Jones was cowering away from him, his obvious studious nature shocked by the violence. Mr. Turner was beyond words at the moment and simply rolled onto the floor, face down and frantically gulped air.

Jack dropped into the crouch, one hand holding the sheathed sword and another dangling from where he rested it on the knee.

"Pathetic. Why did you even try? Is that why you send that child into my chambers? To make me pliable and believe your lies?" Jack rapped his finger against the man's ear to get his attention and he whimpered and tried to crawl away.

"Master Jacob, Sir," his young clansman cried. "You promised Lady Isabelle that-"

Jack dragged his eyes away from Mr. Turner and looked at the other man. He stopped talking and Jack narrowed his eyes further, "You keep her name out of you mouth. And I haven't drawn a sword in vain. I don't need a sword to deal with pests like you two."

As a demonstration, Jack thrust his free hand and hit the Jones boy in his throat. The punch was strong and the young man choked and coughed, tears springing to he eyes.

"I'll let you live, Mr. Jones, as you father asked me to look after you." Mr. Turner heard the unspoken 'I don't need to keep you alive' and started crying in earnest. "Of course, I believe he meant I was to teach you some things. What do you think? Should I continue with my lessons? I think you already learned to keep mum about my wife. What else should I teach you? Not to lie to me?" Jack demonstratively thrust his hand towards the young man and he crawled away in tears.

Jack only smirked, which made the two man cry in unison as they tried to roll themselves into tight balls. He had them where he wanted them.

"Oh, if only people stopped teasing the Wolf... I plan to stay in Torquay and won't go away any time soon. I believe it's high time people learned to accept me as the clan leader. Do you agree? Or should I teach you this lesson too?"

The two man cried and begged and Jack had a fleeting thought that he was glad Kimberly didn't see him like this.

* * *

Kim arrival at Torquay after the attack was as pompous as it was strained. All the household dwellers were lined up at the the front gate. The servants were bowing and murmuring their happiness at seeing her well. The steward and Mrs. Malone approached her, but Rose and Johnny stepped forward in unison and blocked them. Johnny's mother and father, who mostly recovered from his injury stepped up and suddenly Kim was surrounded by _her_ servants. Even the two maids that Jack put in her service upon her arrival, stepped closer and Kim was grateful that she had some of her own people in this place.

"Lady Isabelle," Master William Sr. voiced from the door. "You must have had a scare! You should rest and Lady Leona will prepare a good tonic for you."

It was comical as Mrs. Malone eye's nearly fell out of her eye sockets at this pronouncement.

"I'd rather not bother the great lady with this task. I have been treated by the town healer, whom my husband _trusts,"_ she said amiably, but her pointed hint was noted as Lady Leona pursed her lips and left the yard after a stiffest bows to her. Her daughter-in-law and granddaughters left as well, following the woman like ducklings followed their mother.

"Then a good bath and a good meal would put you to rights. I'll order the servants," Master William Sr. went on and Kim gnashed her teeth. She wanted to be alone and not deal with these people, who clearly wanted her gone, but etiquette required her to be polite.

"I appreciate your concern, Master William. But you should not be bothering with such menial tasks as ordering the servants. Such work is the domain of the mistress of the house and since _I am_ the mistress of Torquay, I shall see to it myself."

There it was: she officially pulled the rank on these people.

"I- I- Lady Isabelle- That is- You came from abroad and as our language is not one you have mastered yet-"

"I assure you I can manage. Good day, sir," Kim said in Old English and moved past him, her entourage all around her making everyone step out of her way.

She marched to her rooms and, once inside, she sighed deeply and plopped on the settee. Her servants all stood silent waiting for her instructions and she gathered her strength one more time.

"I'm grateful for all your help today. Johnny, Rose, you two were very helpful and I am in your debt." They all bowed and Johnny looked particularly pleased with her praise. "The next several days, until Master Jack comes back, would be difficult. The Ushers, Lady Leona and Master William are- not fond of my husband and, by extension, myself. I urge utmost caution. Please, be mindful of what you say and where you go. I do not wish for any of you to get harmed."

They all nodded again and began to file out. Rose lingered behind to deposit Kim's purchases. Kim picked the antidote vile and wondered if she'd have to use it soon. She didn't trust Lady Leona one bit. It was as if Rose heard her thoughts and spoke quietly, making sure to approach as close as she could.

"Lady Isabelle, I believe that most servants like you enough and fear Master Jacob. And we, Anne and the girls and I, would be serving your directly, but if you wish, I can bring the servant's food to you instead. This way we can be double sure. Or Johnny can ran to the market and bring the market food. We just have to hold out till Master Jack comes back. They won't dare to breathe wrong if he is here."

Something irked Kim in Rose's words. we just have to hold out till Master Jack comes back. Obviously, Jack had the most influence here as the heir and the most feared lord in the south of the Kingdom, but Kim was his wife and she, too, had the influence. Wasn't it what Mrs. Malone told her? The reason why Lady Leona and her female relative were ostensibly polite to her and gave her gifts was because Kim could control their lives?

So be it. She wouldn't hide in her quarter till her husband rides to her rescue. She'd use whatever influence she had.

"Thank you, Rose. You're the only one not connected to Torquay and I trust you like no other. Let's do what you suggested. Let's avoid meals prepared for me until we can be sure of all the servants. And would you please summon Mrs. Malone and Mr. Burger for me?"

And so it was that by the end of the day, the new mistress of Torquay greatly reduced the spending freedom of all the ladies residing in Torquay. Their credits in town were now had a certain limit, the number of servants available to them was halfed, their household budgets were quartered and all were put on the general kitchen menu plan. Kim was firm when talking to the housekeeper and the steward. While Mrs. Malone mostly smirked as she obviously disliked Lady Leona, she did ask if the tighter budget would hurt the 'girls' chances at marriage. She had some fondness for Donna and Clair, but Kim only reminded her that 'girls' also had their father's family and that the Bruers (Jack and Kim) had been generous to the 'girls' as it was, given the distant relationship. The steward piped in about Master William's years of management, hailing his expertise, but Kim only answered that in those same years Master William was obviously compensating himself, not counting the free lodging for him and his entire family. Kim reminded Ms. Burger that his employer ultimately was Jack Bruer and that if he had any objections, he was free to find another employment.

The silence that greeted her latest pronouncement was severe. Both long-time Torquay servants who saw years and years of Jack's abuse understood what Kim was doing now. Time came for the young master to step into his rights. Kim let the implications sink in and then offered a brilliant smile.

"Honestly, I think my lord would not care one whit about how the household is run. Or who runs it. You should know by now that he is a man of few needs. Now that I have settled in, I should do my best to meet his needs and let him worry about clan matters. And I hope you can continue working here and help me support him. Lady Marshal told me many a time that the true purpose of the lady is to serve her lord. And she must ensure that all in the estate work towards the same purpose. Lady Marshal is so knowledgeable about such things. Why, even as I left to come here, she told me that I can always rely on her to help me find the purposeful servants. I told her then that I would keep it in mind, and even wrote to her later that I found servants at Torquay very aware of their purpose. Do you agree?"

They did. And left with many bows and affirmations of their loyalty to the purpose of serving the true lord.

Kim didn't fool herself. The Ushers wouldn't take it lightly. But she saw that the balance of power in Torquay was shifting and couldn't go on as it was. Jack's presence and insistence on becoming the leader put him in direct confrontation of the the Ushers and his sudden trip and the attack on her were part of that confrontation. It wasn't direct and it wasn't announced, but the war has began.

She was confident that he would win. After all, she already knew that part of history. She took her chances.

* * *

Jack arrived in thin late evening and entered Torquay undetected. His men, who he trusted enough, were following him behind with Mr. Turner with him as the witness of the plot to undermine him. He made sure to bring him and Mr. Jones shackled and hoped that this demonstration was enough to show the elders his resolve. He rode ahead with just two men determined to get to Torquay as fast as possible.

Kimberly's note reached him just as he finished his 'lessons' in Salcombe. He read her missive and stood still, feeling like all the blood in him turned to honey and refused to flow properly. The fear he felt was all consuming and thorough, leaving him momentarily breathless. Kimberly, his light and happiness, was attacked and though she barely mentioned it, he knew - knew - that it wasn't an accident. Ushers, all of them, would pay. He was gratified to see that she used the town's healer to send the message. The clever girl knew not to trust anyone in Torquay. How was he so idiotic to leave her alone in that viper's nest? Did he become so complacent that he thought the fear of him would stop Leona or her feckless husband? They hated his guts and knew he'd have little care for them once he was the clan's leader, but he was willing to let them be, as long as they knew their place. Unforgivable idiocy! Well, then, it was time to teach them all a lesson.

Johnny, who was hanging out by the stables, was the first one that Jack went to see. The boy was mentioned in Kimberly's note and Jack wanted to get the full story form him. The boy nearly passed out when Jack grabbed to drag him into the dark corner. But then he told him an unbelievable story how the bandits couldn't touch Kimberly for she was a true angel. Not a hair out of place, Sir! Jack was inclined to believe that Kimberly used her fighting skills that he observed before with Cai. That his wife had to fight for her safety in his ancestral lands was the shame he'd never live down. Johnny went on to say that Kimberly told off the Ushers and apparently pulled the purse's strings on them. So, she figured out that the attack wasn't an accident either. And then he caught the last part of Johnny's tale: they all - Kimberly and her servants - were eating the food that Johnny scrounged up in town. Realization that Kimberly had been in a stand-off with his hateful family and was afraid to eat or drink anything from within the estate cut him more than anything else. She didn't feel safe here. She wasn't safe here. He, the feared Wolf was only good at advancing the Bruer clan's interest, but failed to keep his woman safe.

He swallowed the shame and put a heavy hand on Johnny's shoulder, "You did well, Johnny."

The boy straightened and for the first time looked him directly in the eye, "Lady Isabelle is the kindest soul, Sir. I would help her even if you didn't ask me." The boy was solemn, but his cheeks and ears burned bright red and Jack realized that the boy admired and liked Kimberly. Once again he wondered how she managed to inspire such devotion in people.

"Thank you, Johnny. I have a task for you."

Then Jack found the rest of his men, who didn't come to Salcombe. They were housed close to the stables and from there it was a direct sight line of his quarters of the estate. He was pleased to see that the regular watch was on post and the man only bowed upon seeing him.

"All is quiet, Sir. Lady Isabelle is inside."

"What of the attackers?" Jack was worried that whoever hired them would get rid of them.

"They are secure for now. We didn't let anyone in and only you have authority over us, Sir."

"Good. Make sure they survive till tomorrow. Who visited Leona and William Sr.?"

"Elders Moore and Smollett saw Master William. Abbot visited Lady Leona. A messenger was sent to Devon this noon."

So, he had about 24 hours before his father's representative showed up here. He needed to resolve everything, so when Cai or whoever arrived, they'd have to approve what he had done or risk direct confrontation with him.

"Stop any further messengers that are not mine. And don't tell anyone know I am here." He paused and finished. "Thank you for keeping her safe."

The man was a trained soldier of his so he only betrayed his surprised with a slight flare of nostrils and then bowed his head low in thanks.

Jack turned abruptly and went to see his wife, the impossible woman who came from another world.


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: Smaller chapter, because I wanted to give their reunion some space.

* * *

Jack imagined what he would do when he got back from the trip and she wasn't alone. She showed him that herself. It will be necessary to stretch forth a hand for a 'handshake' which were acceptable means of greeting a person without bowing.

He imagined that if she was alone he would hug and kiss her, which in her world was also acceptable for people in love to do. He imagined those scenarios, but forgot about everything when he saw her face. Her hair was pulled into a bun on top of her head, her skirts looked less voluminous as if she skipped the petticoats and bustles, and she was showing something to the maids, her hands moving in quick gestures - sharp and precise. Whatever he expected - her being pale, sad, upset, anxious - it was wrong. She looked good - it is immediately evident that she wasn't hurt or injured or even scared. She ate well and slept well, and he was grateful to her for taking care of herself. However, her simple hairstyle and dress, obviously meant for ease of movement, and her demonstration turned Jack's thoughts completely into another direction.

"All the same," he said, and fell silent, frightened by the rudeness of his voice. The he started again attempting to smooth his voice, "I asked you not to get into trouble while I was away." His attempt at tenderness was, alas, abysmal.

And then this woman threw her head back and laughed. The hat went off, leaving her hair barely uncovered, and the sound of laughter seemed to strike the ceiling and return echoing around the room.

"I lived to tell the tale. Did you know that my angelic status means that no commoner can lay a hand on me?" she laughed again and he felt the answering smile tugging at his lips.

The maids scrambled from where they were lined up in front of Kimberly and hurried out of the sitting room, which made sparse as the furniture was shoved to the sides. They ran past laughing Kimberly and him, bowing quickly, but their greetings and habitual fear of him barely registered.

Jack did not fully understand this yet, but his body was already rushing forward, his hands grabbing the laughing woman in his arms, and his lips easily touched the defenseless, open neck.

He was finally back and she was safe.

She stopped laughing, put her hands onto his face, and said with a mischievous grin, "What is this? Stubble?"

He foregone shaving in his rush to get to her sooner and now he somehow immediately realized that this should never-ever be allowed to grow on his face. "There are rumors," she continued, her voice broke, she whispered rather than spoke, pronouncing words much more slowly than usual, "that you beat everyone into submission in Salcomb, and that Cornwall people now use your name to scare their children. I'm proud of you, my lord. You think you can do it here too, my lord?"

And this voice, and this address snapped in his mind, and with darkened eyes, he pulled her to him tightly, bowing into her body, and she moved with him, obedient to his movements.

"Never ... Never again ... Not a step away from me... So that I always knew exactly where you are!"

"Yes my lord."

He did not understand what in her voice was more - tenderness or laughter. He squinted, squeezing her in his arms, soaking up the smell of herbs, and the rose water, and something else, which made his chest hot and cold at the same time. And she somehow turned so that he felt the slight warmth of her breath on his lips, and, finally giving in, he fell into a kiss like a river.

That was right, that's the way it should always be - a trembling, warm woman in his arms, and her heart that was beating against his chest, and a slightly open lips, and all the treasures of the world for her quiet moan, and the hot tears of happiness - him? her? - and silence around.

Silence, which was broken only by the trampling of a fast-moving feet.

Jack groaned through his teeth, gave himself another second, and then very slowly, very reluctantly, broke the kiss, moved slightly, and took Kimberly by the hand.

"Are you are hungry?"

"What?"

She was so surprised that it became clear that she had not heard these steps, although Johnny stomped like an eager horse.

"I asked Johnny to fetch us some food," Jack said, smiling at her surprise. "I hear you don't eat anything prepared in Torquay manor?"

She blinked like a waking child.

"I have not eaten since midday," she said uncertainly. Then a smile shone on her face again, "You know, I think I missed you too much to enjoy food."

He could not stand it, and despite the fact that Johnny was very close and about to knock, he kissed her quickly, where he could - on the lips, cheeks, nose, eyelids.

They ate simple food that Johnny brought. Kimberly wanted to eat with the servants together, but Jack's scowl drove them all out into the antechambers. Kimberly gave him unimpressed look.

"Was it necessary? I'll have you know, fear is not a great motivator."

"Is that so?" he simply enjoyed the sound of her voice. It was so welcome, even her scolding was welcome.

"Yes, there were studies about it. Peer-reviewed and conformed with other independent research," as usual she spoke quickly and used unknown words.

He learned to guess the meaning from the context and her tone, but was stumped for once, "What?"

"Fear doesn't inspire good attitude from subordinates," she summarized.

He smirked, "I don't care about subordinates. I'm just glad you don't fear me at all."

She huffed, but then grew a little serious, "Jack, I am worried about them: Johnny, Rose, Anne - all of them. People might think twice about attacking me, but the servants... They are defenseless. I was teaching the girls, you know. How to defend themselves without weapons."

He nodded, "Hopefully, starting tomorrow you won't have to worry about yours or your servants' safety. But from now on, you are not to go anywhere without one of my armed men with you. In fact, I want to teach you how to use a dagger."

She sighed, "Is it like using katana? I guess I can stand to learn a little of that too. How was it really in Salcomb?"

"Ushers wanted to full me into making mistakes. I think they are worried about me taking over completely and throwing them out."

"Ahh... Preemptive strike?" she said quickly with a smirk, but seeing his expression she added. "Making a move before the enemy gets into position or becomes too strong."

"Does everyone in your time take lessons in stratagem?" He was confused: Kimberly told him that in her time, life was a little safer.

"There was, is, a war going on in my time. One of the leaders of my country used this term. It's part of popular culture now." That made him pause: was she safe at her place in her time? "So, the Ushers wanted to show you as a bad leader. How did you figure it out?"

"The books didn't make sense. The local lord tried to impress me too much. And there was one servant who confirmed my suspicions."

Kimberly's eyes grew wide, "A servant told you of the plot to deceive you?"

"She was put into my service. She looked ready to die when in my presence. So I let her be and, since she listened to my instructions well, I told her she'd come with me to Torquay."

"And that made her like you?" her disbelief was so great, Jack laughed.

"Nay, milady. She was terrified, but others told her what an angel you are, so she calmed down and even decided to help me. I think you will like this new girl."

"Jack, you big softie,"she drawled with a smile. "See, being nice begets others being nice to you."

"Tis not that. I didn't want her to drop all the dishes every time she had a fright because of me," Jack defended his fearsome reputations.

"Sure, sure. If you say so."

And so with smiles, they finished eating and he went about to undress, but underneath the casualness of the dinner, the trembling anticipation was slowly rising in him. He just had to remember to be gentle.

"Let me help you," she said and then went behind him, and he missed her instantly just because he couldn't see her. And then he felt the thick leather of the armor being pulled away from his torso and he realized that he was starting to shake from what was happening.

How simple it was - your woman helping you take off your armor.

And how unimaginable it was just months ago.

Kimberly stood, pressing her hands to his back, taking a moment to absorb the closeness. Then she came to stand before him and touched the stubble.

"You have a terrible beard on the portrait I saw," she whispered, and moved a little closer-even closer. "But, I think, this is the fantasy of painter."

Jack froze, again remembering that she was from another time and when she was from he was gone.

It was more than he could imagine: to live knowing that your person was gone.

It was not that there was a world somewhere where he had already died - death was normal and no one escaped it yet - but it was _this_ knowledge of the past that Kimberly carried with her, and yet, that she did not lose her courage and loved him without reservations. He sat on down and pulled her into his lap, holding her tight, his eyes burning with tears that he didn't let fall.

"I love you," she said softly.

"What?"

"What you are experiencing now. This is called "I love you." These are the very feelings."

She was very close, the hair that fell out of the bun tangled with his, he saw her freckles and long lashes; too, saw every fine line of her lips; and his own reflection on the irises of her eyes. He stretched his arm out to one side, without looking, took a towel from the table, wiped his face of dust. He pressed Kimberly to himself even more, so close that their lips touched each other, and only then did he answer.

"No. This is much more than some words."

He ran his hands over her hair, pulling the pins out and ruffling the gold tresses loose. Kimberly stood up and forced him to rise too, and turned her back to him. Slowly, very slowly, he unlaced her stays and undid the belt and the cloth fell obediently at his feet. And Jack hugged his woman from behind, pressing her naked back to his chest. She threw her head back, ear to his chest, and he ran his lips along her neck, remembering this taste, his fingers tingling in anticipation.

Kimberly turned to him, and pulled him for a deep kiss, pressed herself close, preventing him from taking her clothes off. All her dexterity disappeared somewhere, she seemed to be afraid to step back even for a little. And he felt the same. And this helplessness made his head even more dizzy. The tenderness of the reunion disappeared, giving way to a burning desire. And Jack was no longer just in a hurry. NO, he was ravenous and longed for her, balancing on the very brink of self-control. All the skills that his trained body possessed were completely gone in this moment, when tenderness and desire overwhelmed him, and he only occasionally remembered that he had to breathe still.

They did not make it to the bed. The bed was somewhere very far away, so they did not get there, and settled right on the floor, its coldness cooling Jack a little, the table leg kept digging at his shoulder, and he was constantly worried that Kimberly would be uncomfortable, so placed his palms under her knees so that they do not touch the wooden floorboards, as she endlessly teased him by touching and stroking his chest and shoulders, bowing for a kiss, and straightening her back up as she threw back her head, giving herself to his gaze.

Somewhere outside, there were howling winds and a ruthless downpour on the roof, the wind shook the building, and Jack thought that he and Kimberly were at the very center of this sudden storm.

Much later, when the bed was found, the weather subsided, and Kimberly was fast asleep, tangling with Jack's arms and legs, and her hair tickled his neck, he still kept hold of her hand, afraid to fall asleep for even a fraction of an instant.

She was almost lost to him and he could not, would not, imagine a world where she wasn't by his side.

He couldn't imagine what powers brought her here and whether they would take her away from him, but he had her now and he would defend her from the dangers of his world. Tomorrow he would bring the Ushers to their knees and make his father accept the outcome.


	27. Chapter 27

Jack left Kimberly sleeping in bed, her face peaceful and pink in the dawning light so it was really tempting to stay a little longer. Yet another reason to dislike the Ushers and the intrigue, but Jack understood that they wouldn't leave him or her alone, so he had to rattle his sword and instill the fear of death in them. He kissed her forehead and left the rooms. Outside, Johnny was slumped over in the chair near the entrance to their quarters. As a guard went, he was still of little use, but Jack knew of his devotion to Kimberly and that was recommendation enough in his books. He shook the boy awake.

"Johnny. Did you get the message to all of them?" he asked when the boy was awake.

"Yes, sir," the boy scrambled to his feet and bowed.

"Johnny, I shall be busy with clan matters and most likely it would take a whole day. I shall send my man Sanders here to guard Lady Isabelle. She is not to leave these rooms. If she does, you must find me immediately."

"Yes, sir!"

Jack marched to the stables. His ride to the abbot's house in town was swift and soon he burst into the parlor.

"My lord!" the bothersome abbot almost fell to his knees, showing his respect to Jack. "I have expected your visit, but hadn't expected that you'd come so soon." There was a veiled rebuke to Jack for showing up so late after his return to Torquay.

Jack looked over the man without any particular regard to his status. He looked younger than he was: his face was smooth, his hair silky and long, his habit made of expensive fabric. It was said that the man spent a lot less time in his abbey than here in Torquay. Jack saw the increasing frequency of man's visits, but hadn't concerned himself with this until now.

"The summer was dry and the harvest is leaner than before. The King has been away in the Promised Land for years. The council runs the affairs of the Kingdom. The taxes to fund the Crusade are rising each year," Jack said casually as he sat down without invitation. "Yet you don't seem to seek the blessings of our Lord in Heaven. Rather you are here, meddling in affairs of the man. Doesn't your soul weep?"

"Unknown are the ways of the God, my lord," the abbot responded smoothly and smiled. "In dealing with the affairs of my flock, I rely on my own ears, eyes and wisdom."

"And I prefer to rely on this," Jack took the sword and gave it a quick spin. The metal shone in the early morning light, drawing attention of the man of cloth. Jack seized the handle of his weapon, keeping his eyes on his companion.

"I am a peaceful person," the abbot moved away a little. "But you... People say that you draw the sword first and say your greetings - second."

"Greetings," Jack practically snorted.

"I have an inkling as to why you are here... Please, let me serve you some drinks," the man moved to pick a pitcher.

Jack casually put both feet on the low table, which sent the cups and the pitcher flying to the floor. The delicate pottery shattered into pieces. The abbot frowned.

"Your family and ancestors are too elevated for me to suspect a certain lack of manners on your part," the abbot said in a thin voice. "Therefore I shall ask you directly: are you angry with me, my lord?"

"I am debating whether I should kill you right now," Jack responded calmly.

The abbot recoiled. It would seem that the reality of meeting the Wolf was much more awful than the rumors of his terrible temper were.

"Explain to me this," Jack asked. "What sort of deal did you make with Aunt Leona?"

"D-deal?"

"I don't have much time to waste," Jack snarled. "I just returned to Torquay and Lady Isabelle had waited for me long enough as it is."

"Ah, yes, your angelic wife. Her reputation is almost as-"

The rest of the sentence was cut off as Jack unsheathed the sword and placed under the man's chin. "You do not get to say her name." He pressed the sword harder until the abbot was pressed against the chair. "The deal?"

The man gulped and pleaded, "You are making a mistake, my lord. I am but a servant of God-"

Jack snorted, but kept the sword where it was. "I get it. While I was away, the Ushers were the lords here and you made nice with them. You enjoy unusual closeness with Lady Leona and always support her from your pulpit. But now that I am back, why do you still align yourself with them? Unless, you don't think I shall survive long? But you have no guaranty of that: I am younger and I have survived them this long. Tell me, do you have a deal with Cai as well? I'll tell you right now that Torquay is too small for him. He might want to see me dead, but he doesn't _need_ me dead. So, which is it? Lady Leona or Cai Bruer? Whose feet are you licking, Father? Did you advise them to fool me?"

The abbot gulped and sweat beaded his forehead as he stared at the sword, nearly cross-eyed, "My lord! I do not involve myself in family matters. I sought to temper Lady Leona advising her that you have a claim to barony after you father dies - may his life be long and prosperous - and, were it God's plan, you might be a strong ally to her and her family. She better align herself with you!"

"Ally to her and her family? Align her to me?" Jack puzzled at his. "You mean to tell me that you advised her to connect herself to me more than we already are, didn't you? Even as I am a married man? Is that why she was attacked?" He snarled the last part, hand shaking with effort to hold the sword still. "Which one was it this time? Claire, I wager. Donna nearly expired from being alone with me in one room. And Cai? Do you work with Cai?"

"No, sir. I never-"

Jack marveled at these people, who decided his fate and so easily discarded Kimberly from their plans. He was stupefied, but not surprised.

He dug the tip of the sword deeper making the small drops of blood appear on the man's neck, "You must return to your direct duties, Father. Affairs of men, sinful beings that they are, are riddled with death or suffering. I know for sure that my Aunt prefers the distant sort of killing - poisons, bandits, accidents, but I am a warrior. When I kill, I like to see the face of the man I am killing. There are two armed men outside. They shall make sure that you leave Torquay in the next half-hour. If you step foot in Torquay while I am here, I will not hesitate."

He turned to leave and heard distantly the rapid breathing of the man, who just stared death in the face.

Next was the visit to the cellar in Torquay. The four men, who dared to attack Kimberly were held there. His interrogation of them was brutal and swift. He long ago learned to accept that he lived his life by the sword and was likely to die by the sword, but the notion that Kimberly - sweet and kind - was targeted drove him to extreme. He was glad again that she didn't see him like this, when he broke bones and tore flesh. They gave up the truth quickly. It was one of his Aunt's trusted servants who arranged the attack. No one expected much resistance from the noble lady, who so recently lost her memory and was known for her kindness.

It was as he expected, but the sting of the usual betrayal and hurt that came every time his mother's family rejected him, didn't come. He truly and completely gave up on them and all his loyalty and love was reserved for one person only, who was blissfully ensconced in their rooms under guard.

He didn't hesitate. Katherine, Donna and Claire were locked in their rooms. Both Masters Williams were summoned to the great hall, where Lady Leona was being escorted to by his armed men.

The day was still only beginning, but the elders already assembled in the library as he told them to. Johnny was efficient and took his message to all of them. The only ones missing were the two elders, who visited Master William. Those two he kept hidden as special guests. In cellar.

Most of the elders were petty men with only their self-serving interests in mind. It was easy to see how they fell under the sway of the smarter and more ambitious person. Master William was an imposing man, but Lady Leona truly knew how to manipulate people. And she was ambitious. Jack sat down at the usual head of the table and others hesitated to follow his suit, looking around for the Ushers. But soon they sat down when they saw Jack's armed men and Jack's own unsheathed sword lying on the table.

"I am here to report about the state of things in Salcombe," Jack began and there were a few whispers of surprise. "My uncle knows about all of it. As do elders Jones and Smollett."

The remaining elders looked around and quieted down.

"The harvest is fine. It would be a leaner winter for some, but I don't expect particular hardship if the fishing remains as it is now. Moreover, the same conditions apply to Cornwall, so there weren't any raids from our neighbors."

He let them digest and then went for the main point, "However, there seemed to be a plot to deceive me and lure me into conflict with people of Cornwall!"

More murmurs and Jack waited for the noise to die down. "Turner in Salcombe tells me that he received a letter from Torquay directing him to lie to me."

There was such silence upon this pronouncement that Jack swore he could hear the large hearth being lit in the kitchens.

Then the clamor began. Various voices called 'it wasn't us,' 'how is it possible,' 'we had no knowledge,' and so on and so forth.

Jack raised his hand and it was silent again.

"Turner will be here soon. Young Jones is coming with him as well. They were both quite good students. I told them, and they understood, that lying to the true lord of the Torquay is indeed a bad idea. Turner needed some repetition of the lesson, but I believe I make a good teacher. All the same, I'm bringing them in chains." Jack twirled his sword lazily and the room looked on riveted. "Jones is young and grasped things quickly, although I am not sure if his father is an equally quick study. And Smollett, I am not sure about him either. They are currently held in our cellar. Just until they learn."

The men looked paler as Jack casually spun the weapon again. He caught it by the hilt and slammed it down hard. The sudden noise made everyone jump and Jack rose to this feet and leaned over the table, baring teeth.

"But my biggest news for you is of the plot to kill my wife, Lady Isabelle!" he thundered and his men responded by standing straighter and drawing their weapons. "She was attacked in broad daylight! In the market! Providence and the people of Torquay kept her safe, but this shall not stand! Attack against her is attack against me and this lesson I am willing to teach repeatedly to all who don't understand it."

Again the men refuted any knowledge, many cowering and pleading in fear of his anger.

"Bring them," Jack ordered and the two attacker who still were able to walk were brought in. The sight of the bloodied, wounded and severly injured men was enough to make some queasy.

Jack let the sight sink in and then continued, "These men attempted to assault a noble woman. These men had done so because they were paid handsomely by someone in this very place. Tell these gentlemen who paid you."

"'Tis was Lady Leona, master," one of them wheezed and a trickle of blood came from his mouth.

"Tell them what happened when you tried to attack Lady Isabelle," Jack said calmly.

"'Tis strange thing, master. We couldn't touch her. Every time we thought we had her, she wasn't there. She moved so fast and every time one of us raised hand on her, the hand missed and we got hurt ourselves. 'Tis strange, strange indeed... People said she was an angel and she must be, for we couldn't lay a hand on her."

"And you never shall have a chance like this again. You raised hands at my wife for measly coins. Your task master has abandoned. And as I am the Lord of this land, I shall decide your fate."

Jack waved them off and the men were carted off pleading for their lives. No one doubted that the Wolf would kill to make an example of them.

The elders sat stunned. In short amount of time Jack accused the Ushers of sabotaging him in Salcombe and of a plot to kill his wife. He already showed them what he'd done to the captured attackers. He has brought Turner and Jones in chains, and jailed others suspected of plotting. By all accounts, he was planning on dealing with his aunt and uncle with the same firm hand.

The only one capable of stopping him would be his father.

"I have called you all here because I want to ask you this: who do you think would my father support? Myself, his son? Or the usurpers, who have once nearly killed me as a child? I feel no filial duty to them. My true uncle has died and Lady Leona is but an old lady with delusions of grandeur. She and her husband lived off this land, my inheritance, for a long time. But apparently it's not enough. Their lie to me was the same as the lie to my father. If I started a conflct with Cornwall, all of the Bruers would have been implicated. So, let me ask you again. Who would my father support?"

One by one he looked at the men around him, knowing that every single one of them hated him, but the fear of him was stronger.

One by one they bowed to him and he sighed inwardly. Perhaps, he could escape major bloodshed today. It's enough that he already had to wash the prisoners' blood off his hands.

"Well, then. Let's see my Aunt and Uncle."


	28. Chapter 28

In the end the confrontation was anti-climactic. His uncle William was resigned. It was as if he waited for this moment and was relived it arrived. His son, Jack's cousin William, was less prepared, but unlike his mother and father he was never a fighter. Jack ordered all the arrested people into the great hall and it was satisfying to see his Aunt's face pale at the sight of the hired bandits bruised and bloodied faces and bodies. Uncle William was equally shocked to see Turner and the Joneses and Smollett present and shackled.

Aunt Leona protested, oh she did, but the winds have changed and she had little influence now. The elders eyed him nervously and his men stood like a monolith wall. Jack hadn't wanted to force them like this, but sometimes the choice was already made. In this case, the choice has been made the moment Kimberly was attacked.

Jack calmly gave them their options: leave for Uncle William's small estate in the East Anglia and never come back here. He knew what this meant" a significantly reduced circumstances and consequence. His Uncle looked like he wanted to argue, but Jack pointed to Turner, who whimpered every time Jack so much as looked at him, and subsided. His cousin William looked relived: he must have expected severe beating or worse, so he nodded and asked if his family - Katherine, Claire and Donna - would be spared. Jack felt magnanimous: he had no ill will towards the young women. They were as free as he was when it came to parents. He had paid handsomely for who his parents were, he had no desire to make others suffer.

The other option was to stand accused of plotting the murder and deception. Aunt Leona wailed about his ungrateful nature and he calmly offered her an alternative: she could join her favorite abbot in pursuing higher calling. She liked to visit the monastery, she could relocate there permanently. She spewed so much vitriol, it was a wonder anyone thought her to be a lady. The woman was rude and vulgar like any fishwife and Jack wondered why he hadn't bothered to cut them off before. His life certainly would have been easier. Leona raised her hand as to slap him and Uncle William sprang with surprising agility to stop her.

"My lady! Cease this behavior! Think of the girls!" he was pleading with her and she turned to him with a snarl.

"You spineless worm! How I hated my father for marrying me off to you. You are coward and I always had to prod you. If it weren't for me, you would have still been in that dirty village of yours." She spun towards Jack and bared her teeth, "You bastard child! I knew you were a curse on this family and I was right. All of the Ushers are dying or lost because of you. Your useless mother, your uncle and my brother, his wife, myself... But it's your cursed Bruer blood, so you just wait. Time will come and your own flesh and blood will turn on you."

He was silent for a moment looking at this insane woman.

"They already have. There is no one who I can call my own... Except for my wife. And you tried to get rid of her... I thought I might let you go with your husband, but now I think he wouldn't be able to control you. You will be placed in the monastery to live out your life in prayers."

"I hate you! I hate you! You and your wife! You showed up here and ruined everything! And she is a wily one. Didn't even touch anything cooked in this place. I hate you both!"

His men dragged the woman away and she was joined by the elders, who still stood accused of plotting to deceive him. Jack sighed and turned to both Williams.

"I give you two days to ready yourselves and leave. This time you will remain under lock and key. I never see any of you, it would be too soon."

He then turned to the remaining elders, "I intend to strip Turner and Jones Senior of their positions. Their families would be allowed a small allowance, but the rest of their fortunes forfeit to me. Let it be a lesson to all of you: I shall not tolerate any dissension in the ranks. Later, we shall publicly punish the bandits that attached my wife."

And then he was marching out. Fast. As fast as he could without appearing to be running.

He needed to see Kimberly: dealing with all this today made him feel dirty and empty.

He found her in the large anteroom to their quarter, dicing some herbs and listening to Rose attempting to sing the song that he heard Kimberly sing in York: the one about roses and gardens and sweet dreams. She looked so carefree, his heart melted immediately at the sight of her smile and the sound of her voice as she tried to provide a melody for Rose.

Jack watched as she laughed - melodiously and carefree - and he was both happy and afraid. She was the island of peace in this world that always tied to hurt her. He could protect her - after all, wasn't the safest place in England behind him? But wasn't the most dangerous place to be near him?

He sighed and she must have felt it, because for sure she couldn't have heard it. She turned to him with a wide smile.

"Are you going to dine with me, my lord? Maybe we can ask Anne - and Sanders would watch to make sure - to cook something simple for us?"

"I cannot, milady," he said formally and saw how Rose bowed quickly and left the room.

"Oh, but I thought you'd be done by now... Well, maybe, we can hold the dinner till you're free?"

"I shall be busy all evening."

Laughter was leaving her face in stages. First, it was gone from her eyes, and then it was gone from her lips.

"Has- Has something happened?" she asked tentatively.

Jack paused and thought it over. He never knew how much he could tell her. even before, when she was a young woman from the continent, who lost her memories. Now that he knew that she was from another time and world, he wondered if he should burden her with such knowledge as killings and public executions. And she was at the heart of these recent events: people plotted against her and people were paying for that now. She, with her different ideas of people's value and free will, she might not see things the way they were here. Should he protect her by not telling her or should he protect her by informing her?

"Kimberly," Jack took her hands and sat her before him. He lowered his head, gathering thoughts and words and...

Cold sweat broke out all over him at once.

There, on Kimberly's delicate wrist, was a mottling of red dots and raised skin. It wasn't there before. It was red and angry and it could only be- His Aunt's words about food and -

Not realizing that he was hurting her, he squeezed her wrist so hard, she exclaimed in pain.

"What... is... this?" he words pushed past his nerveless lips, feeling like he was falling into abyss.

Kimberly didn't understand right away what he was asking about and what got him so upset. And when she did understand - she exclaimed in surprise and spoke quickly, hurrying to pacify Jack, who was half dead from fear.

"This? It's nothing. It's nettle! I was dicing nettle and it burned me. See?" she was speaking with conviction, widening her eyes. "I promise you."

"Nettle?" Jack didn't quite believe her and then she jumped from where she sitting and brought the small board, spilling the green shavings of the herb.

Jack, stunned and not quite seeing right, didn't understand what she was talking about. Then he took a handful of cut herb and rubbed it with his fingers. Reality was slowly coming back to him.

"Good god, Jack. You look so pale," she whispered to him with endless tenderness.

He pressed her to him, so tight that the uneven beat of her heart was echoing like thunder in his own chest. He sat like this, slowly recovering. Concentrating on her breathing - warm exhale on his neck, cool air of inhale - he listened to her heartbeat.

All his fears that he conquered when he left her alone to go to Salcombe - they rushed at him as one great wave, threatening to drown him under. A terrible thought that Kimberly would have been better off never appearing in this world passed through the edge of his consciousness and disappeared in the heat of his horror of never knowing her.

She might not have had the choice in being here and now, but she chose him. She chose him and he tried not to disappoint her every day of his life now.

He could protect her. Always. No matter what awaited for them in the future. Even if his fears made him appear cowardly and silly. Like right now.

Kimberly wrapped her arms around his neck, raised herself on the tip toes until she was even with his face: eyes to eyes, lips to lips.

"Christmas will be soon," she said, placing kisses after every word. "And you would have to give me a present. And not just me. Everyone in the household. And we will put stockings over the great hearth and we will put little..."

He didn't understand a word of what she was saying.

"A present?" he asked, upset that she was saying so many words, leaving him without kisses.

"Think what it could be," she said firmly and smiled again. Her eyes were lit with that particular fire, which - he already knew - appeared only in those special moment. It meant that she was thinking of something entirely different from presents and conversations.

As for him, he usually stopped thinking altogether.

But right now was middle of the day and he still had matters to attend to, but what he wanted was for it to be a dark night and to hold warm feminine body and tangle hands in soft hair, and to kiss slightly damp skin, and hear the rustle of sheets on bed, and talk in quiet whispers, and many other things that now comprised majority of his thoughts and dreams and desires.

"Wait," Jack shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. It was difficult not to touch her when she was so close, but he moved away a little, suffering g from this separation like he was bitten by a pack of wolves. How could he exist without everything that she was?

How could a person feel all these emotions and not die from some sort of avalanche of feelings? How was it that his heart hasn't burst open yet?

He breathed in and out, reminding himself that he was a fearsome warrior, "We need to talk about your reputation." He decided not to mention the executions just yet.

"What? Why?"

"Your were fighting in the market. People didn't understand how you evaded bandits and now they think the Providence was helping you. This... This attracts a lot of attention. Not all of it is good."

"What? Oh, like, I'm a heretic or a witch? But what I was supposed to do? They were coming at me and Rose with sticks! I defended myself and if your society can't believe that women can defend themselves, then it's on them, not me."

He smiled at her indignant face. "Of course, it's completely understandable that you would defend yourself. And I am not worried about your being accused of witchcraft. I meant that with you being so popular with the commoners, makes others take notice. Others might find it an obstacle to their plans."

"Ahh... So you think you that someone attacked me because I was becoming an asset to you, instead of a burden. And you need to know who it was?"

"I know who was it this time. I'm worried that there would be more."

"Well... Ushers and Cai come to mind. But what you need to know is if your father is aware of it too..." She sounded sad and he knew it was on his behalf. "What can I do to help you?"

Her determined face and bright eyes broke his resolve and he quickly hugged her and kissed anywhere he could reach: eyes, lips, nose, freckles, chin...

"Ushers will leave Torquay in two days time. They are under arrest now. We... you would be safe for now, although don't leave your rooms without Sanders. And then I expect visitors from Devon."

She subsided and nodded. "Your father... Would he approve of what you have done?"

"He approves of strenthening the influence of our family. But he also is worried about Cai and his claim to barony. There could be no challenges and I am a challenge. Whether I want it or not."

She nodded again, "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me. I have my people and Sanders and the Providence on my side."

He answered be faint smile and left to go back to dealing with the prisoners and elders and Ushers.

That evening he came back to their rooms having just witness the execution of four captured bandits. He didn't suffer unnecessary guilt over it: these men chose their path in life and this was a logical end of it. But in this display he saw what this world must have looked like to Kimberly. It was violent and merciless and hostile to her. People trade her as a bride. People tried to hurt her, poison her, kill her...

He laid down in bed with no desire to talk or move at all. They day was not just long: it was endlessly gruelling.

"Could you just hold me?" he asked in toneless voice.

She readily wrapped her arms and legs around him and pressed close without saying a word. They lay like this in darkness, until all the noises outside died down.

Soon he would face his father. With Kimberly by his side.


	29. Chapter 29

A/N: My apologies for delay in posting this chapter. I have been writing another story in another fandom and it is harder to keep the regular schedule when there are two stories to update.

Jack placed his people on all roads approaching Torquay to get the early warning of his father's arrival. If his calculations were right, the Devon party would be arriving early afternoon. He had half a mind to meet them before they crossed the last hill before Torquay, but had to remind himself that he was the lord of this place and a head of the clan. It wouldn't do for him to rush and meet his visitors like some servant.

Kimberly woke up early with him and was busy ordering everyone to do the last bits of clean-up and to prepare the rooms for guests. The whole place was agitated and Jack left it early to focus on his crew of men. There wasn't enough of them to challenge the full complement of Devon soldiers, but each one of his warriors was worth at least three of Cai's men. Jack was confident that their traveling crew would not overwhelm him and his men.

When his esteemed father arrived, Jack wasn't surprised to see Cai with him. Clearly, Cai was here to both observe how his marriage was faring and to sway father's mind in whatever way was most convenient to Cai.

Kimberly stood with him at the front doors and he noticed the care with which she dressed. She was normally well-dressed, but she preferred less voluminous skirts and less puffy sleeves. Right now she was wearing a deep blue gown with white stomacher and her hair was swept in an intricate style and decorated with one of his present to her - a silver pin with a blue lapis carved flower.

Later, after the greetings and showing the visitors to their respective rooms, Jack was reporting to his father about results of his trip to Salcombe and the investigation it triggered. It wasn't much to report: there was a lie and an attempt to kill Kimberly. His father listened carefully and nodded his head long. And then he focused on Jack's face.

"You went to investigate the situation in Salcombe yourself. Why?"

"I had initially thought they wanted to get me involved. Later, I realized, it was to lure me out and to attack my wife without me to protect her."

"Yes, your wife. Cai told me that she garnered an interesting reputation in Torquay. I must confess, when Cai proposed this marriage, I was skeptical that it would be a good. Whatever your reputation is, you are still a son of a baron. Then, her reputation grew and now rumors are that you are tamed by this angelic being and the Torquay is blessed. You must understand that it makes you too consequential and we must not appear as if we are trying to become too strong. Others might not like it. Though you are only a second son born illegitimately, this marriage made you a contender to higher positions. This wife of yours is creating a lot of talks around. And now that you have gotten rid of the remaining Ushers, people see you as ambitious beyond you station."

"With all due respect, father, your concerns are unfounded," Jack responded calmly and firmly. "Whatever her reputation might be, Isabelle is an orphan. She is no longer from the main branch of the Corneille family and was married off to me by a mere letter from her clan. Her uncle is not interested in her wellbeing and therefore she brings no useful connections or influence. As for opinions of others about my prospects, those would be the same with or without Isabelle. I always knew that the Ushers and I would eventually come into a confrontation. And those matters are just the internal affairs of a small clan. They hardly could be of consequence in any other families in other counties."

Baron Bruer was silent, processing everything. It was all very strange. As a seasoned leader and one of the counselor to the King, he noticed what others, including his first born son, might have missed. In particular, the changes that he observed in his second son. In truth he hasn't spent much time with Jack in the last two years and only briefly saw him when he left to York with the report on Lady Isabelle's traveling party.

But could it be possible that a person changed so much in such short time? These changes were immediately obvious to him. Calm, assured and knowledgeable, Jack was very impressive. There was something there too, something that couldn't be expressed in words. It was as if... Baron Bruer was looking at the smart leader. And conversing with his equal, although Jack was very polite and deferential. And this sudden need to rid the Torquay estate of greedy relatives. It would seem that Jack was more angry over the attempt on his wife, as if he truly cared. Was this girl that important to him? He understood the need to punish plotters as a deterrent, but to exile his remaining maternal family was a reach. Didn't Cai tell him that Jack brutalized his wife almost immediately? Wasn't she treated for bruises the very first week she arrived here?

He recalled the petite and pretty woman with blonde hair and dark eyes. Nothing about her was very striking: sure, she was pretty, but Jack was never one to be swayed by carnal desires. So much so that the Baron wondered if his son was even capable of caring about other people.

The more Baron thought of it, the more questions he had. Who was this girl that his harsh son would hang four people for attempting to hurt her, when he himself did the same? What would happen if he disapproved of Jack's actions? What would happen if he approved? How would this changed Jack react to either decision? What would it mean for Cai? Would Jack be a challenge to Cai? Would Jack become a pillar that supports his brother?

"My Lord, even the dogs get a bone from their masters. And hired men get paid for their service," the same calm and firm voice broke the Baron's thought.

Baron looked up and locked gazes with very perceptive eyes of his son. Did he show too much of his thoughts? Was Jack letting him know that he knew what his father thought? Was Jack reminding him that not long ago it was Jack who assured their safety as the leader of the armed men in Devon? Was it a subtle reminder that the Bruer armed men were loyal to him, but weren't so keen on Cai?

"Why did you decide to exile them?" Baron asked quickly, keeping his attention on Jack's face, curious to hear the reasons.

"Because they wouldn't have stopped at just one attempt. Their goal was to undercut me, but if that didn't work, they meant to see me married to one of their daughters. And I truly don't want another wife."

"Why?" Baron pressed on.

"Because my current wife isn't put off by my scarred face," Jack's response came immediately.

Baron sat back and closed his eyes briefly. The usual guilt he felt when reminded of his past engulfed him. His shame and sins were carved into Jack's face. No one could just ignore it. He himself couldn't bear to look at that scar. But if there was a woman, who wasn't afraid of it or disgusted by it, then she was an intriguing person indeed.

"I shall approve of your decisions. Leona will be placed in a monastery and her family would leave these parts to never come back. I officially recognize you as the leader of the clan here in Torquay," Baron said it all calmly, now looking directly at Jack's face.

Jack bowed and thanked him with the same politeness and deference that somehow didn't look servile.

When the door closed behind Jack, the Baron leaned back and sighed. He didn't even realize that he was so tense during the entire conversation with Jack.

Even when they first arrived, there was something that was different about it Jack. Cai tried in his juvenile way to egg on his brother, throwing thinly veiled barbs at Jack and sending a cold look at Lady Isabelle. But Jack smiled enigmatically and when he was close enough, he whispered to Cai.

"I wish you would grow up soon, brother. I highly recommend marriage. Nothing like being responsible for someone to make a man out of a boy."

Cai fumed, but the Baron wondered: Was it possible that a marriage changed his cold son? Was it possible that a woman accomplished that?

Baron sighed again: Jack was once again a source of his pride and shame...

Jack, too, was reeling from meeting with his father. Now that he stepped out of the library, he could breathe a sigh of relief. His father approved of all the he decisions and wouldn't challenge Jack's claim to Torquay. Not that he hadn't had some other, more confrontational methods to get his way, but this was the shortest and most direct approach. Jack didn't want to go through the trial and he wanted to avoid rattling his sword at his own father. He wanted to go and see Kimberly right now, just to get the support always present in her eyes. No, she was busy with the celebratory meal and it would be first time showing off her hostess skills. She didn't show it, but he knew she was nervous.

"Jack," came a quiet voice of his teacher, commander Hrodolph. "Are you alright? Was your conversation with the Baron so difficult?"

"I'm fine. And, yes, it was difficult, but it's all over now. I thank you for your circumspection: you didn't tell them much about Isabelle and mine relationship."

"Ahh... Yes, my boy, I chose to report on your dealings with the Ushers, not the Corneilles. But I must say, she must be a remarkable woman."

"You have no idea," Jack smiled at his teacher. "Do you want to see the training of my men here?"

Hrodoplh was very much interested.

Later, when the clan elders arrived for the feast, Jack still couldn't spend much time with Kimberly.

At first he was waylaid by his sneering brother. Cai has spent the entire day while Jack met with father visiting various elders and his spies. It was obvious that he had hand in some of the dealings, even if it wasn't the abbot. Johnny was invaluable in tracking Cai's movements. The boy was smart and observant. He also looked so average in his worn clothes and dirty face that he could walk right behind Cai and not get noticed. It was a fortunate thing that Jack put Johnny on his brother's tail. It was how he discovered that the young Jones was Cai's informant. Jack wondered why his brother chose someone so young and without much clout, but then realized the connection. Before, his uncle planned to marry Donna off to Jones. If that happened, young Jones would have been far more influential. And Cai was cultivating the potential ally. Now, of course, his calculation had to change and Jack wondered who would become Cai's new pawn in Torquay.

Whatever his meeting were, they clearly had borne little results and Cai was irritable when he arrived at dinner. Their father was late arriving and the two brothers were in an uncomfortable proximity to each other without the buffer to diffuse the tension.

"I don't understand why father had to come here at all. These kind of matters don't rise to his level," he sneered and looked at Kimberly, who was chatting with Hrodolph.

"The actions by Ushers would have implicated all of Bruers, including father. Him being here is a right call." Jack saw Kimberly's worried glance and responded with a simple nod.

"I still don't get why it would have. It's just internal matters of the Usher clan. You are not a legitimate Bruer after all." Cai was intentionally cruel and vulgar, but Jack only smiled in response, keeping his temper even. "All you are good for is to create more trouble for father and his family. You were sent here to live with your true family and yet, here we are, dealing with the mess you made. You are so useless. How are you planning to live your life here is all you are good for is killing and torturing? And what a bride you've got for yourself. I know her angel-attitude is a sham. After all, she attacked me."

"Your concern is noted, brother. My bride was something I have to thank you for. I wouldn't mention her 'attack' on you, Cai. It makes you look bad. And, please, be mindful of the eavesdropping and clean up your language. You are not a common sailor. If father didn't involve himself here and never met his new daughter-in-law, people would have thought him very careless leader of the clan. And such reputation reflects badly on all Bruers: real and not. If you fail to grasp these nuances, then, perhaps, you should go back to merely shadowing father? And not, say, attempt to strengthen your own influence? Perhaps, like young Jones, you need more lessons?"

Cai hissed like a startled snake and veritably stomped away from Jack just as their father arrived.

Kimberly approached the older man with a bow and showed him to his seat. His father sat her down near him and they spent some time conversing. How did she find Torquay? Was married life agreeing with her? Did she regain any of her memories? How was she acclimating to being in a different country? His father even tested her knowledge of the local language. And then he asked just how pious she was. Clearly, father tried to determine if any of her 'angelic' reputation had truth behind it.

Kimberly smiled mischievously, "I am observant of the church's teachings, my lord."

"Then, you must be observing it most diligently," his father said.

Kimberly shrugged delicately, "My diligence is not as fervent as Lady Leona's. I hear she spent a lot of time in the company of the abbot. I can't say that I converse with the clergyman all too often. I find that my beliefs are a matter between myself and the Lord."

"Indeed? That is an interesting view. Why would you say that? Isn't church and it's servants are our guides?"

"Yes they are. They teach us of religion and God, but people are different. And some could be excellent students, some could be less so. And each tries to learn their lessons to the best of their abilities. Still, some don't ever learn. Similarly, even the clergymen are only men, after all. They have the same foibles that the lay people have."

"It is an interesting view. So what does your understanding of the religion entail?"

"I like the doctrine of 'do onto others as you wish others to do onto you.' I also believe that we all should have courage and be kind to others."

"I heard of your kindness to commoners, Lady Isabelle. You enjoy an unusual reputation because of it," his father was polite, but the undertone of 'this is a dangerous thing' was obvious to Jack.

"I could hardly control how people see me. We, all of us, are at the whim of other people's perception of us. Some are feared, and some are revered all because of rumors and speculations. In the end, it would be our actions that carry the day. I can only hope to live up to the kind opinions of strangers, but I intend to live my life as my conscious dictates."

Jack was sure he heard a mild rebuke in Kimberly's words. She was telling his father that just as her 'angelic' reputation was overblown, so was his 'wolfish' one. She basically told him to judge her and Jack based on their actions, not word of mouth. She also told his esteemed father that she was going to act in ways that she found to be right, not swayed by any other consideration.

His father's calculating expression was something to behold. Obviously, he disregarded Isabelle from his calculations before, but now she rose in his estimation.

After a long silence his father nodded to himself, "I can see now why Lord Marshal was hesitant to let you go as his potential daughter-in-law. His loss is our boon, I say. Welcome to the family, daughter. If the clan matters do not keep you too busy, you should come and visit us in Devon."

Jack and Kimberly bowed at that and Jack wondered if his father's calculations changed since this visit. The invitation was an endorsement of him and Kimberly. Perhaps she was right when she told him that he would become a baron. Stranger things have happened to him already: just look at his wife.


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: This is a small chapter, but you'll see why.

Kim was willing to overlook everything Cai has said and done to her, but she really hated his constant putdowns of Jack. Amazingly though, Jack seemed to shrug it off without care. He would tell his brother off, but in such a way as to make a point about how juvenile Cai was. Once Cai sneered at her that she was probably crying at night as she was paired with an animal, but he said it before realizing that Jack was behind him. Before Kim could tell the guy to get lost, Jack stepped in and threw his arm over Cai's shoulder. It was obvious that he intentionally made it a heavy and hard move, as Cai bent slightly. Then Jack simply completed the headlock move, but acted like it was an enthusiastic hug.

"Milady, I am forever grateful that I have such a brother. He knows me better than I know myself. It is understandable: we share a father after all. Some say that we are much alike. What do you say, Cai? Are we much alike? What animal is a brother to a wolf?"

"A dog? A jackal?" Kim offered with a smile, skipping over _coyotes_ and _dingos_ at the last minute. "Of course, jackals are smaller and dogs are... domesticated. Wolves by far the most superior predator of that family."

"Smaller?" Jack looked down his nose at Cai and nodded. "Seems right. So, brother, how are the armed men in Devon? Need any more training instructions? They are used to my style, after all. I wouldn't want them to lose their form just because a _lesser_ brother is in charge now."

Cai bared his teeth and spun out of Jack's hold, although only because Jack allowed him. "I need no assistance from you. But if you are inclined to spar together," Cai sneered again albeit a little less haughtily, "I am ready."

They left to spar - or, as Kim put it in her mind, to measure their dicks - near the stables and most inhabitants of Torquay drifted there to watch. Obviously, everybody expected the show.

She followed them sedately, completely confident in Jack's abilities. She had seen him several times, when he trained his men and when he sparred. He was a very confident fighter, with very precise and economical style. He preferred not to waste time and attacked with speed and precision. And she had seen his body, so she knew first hand just how much coiled power was in that trim and lean frame.

In the end Cai was thoroughly defeated, although she would admit that he was a worthy opponent.

Baron Bruer left taking his jerk of a first-born son with him and Torquay settled into it new order. It had less inhabitants now that Leona and her family were gone. Elders were much more agreeable after Jack's show of force and Kim enjoyed what she termed a 'honey moon.' These were the carefree and happy days. Jack would occasionally travel out, but tried not to stay beyond two-three days at most. He worried about her, of course, but she felt secure. She had Sanders with her at all times and he was a man of very few words. Johnny struck up a friendship with the man and she watched as the warrior taught the boy some martial arts. She herself received a few lessons from Jack and was now equipped with no less than two blades: one was conveniently concealed as a hairpin and another was secured to her ankle. She was still slow and clumsy with the knives and hoped that she wouldn't have to use them.

People in town were already fawning over her, but the recent events firmly established her as the first lady of the area and Kim was learning to deal with it all. She had little desire to see the deference and obeisance, but it seemed she couldn't avoid it. She continued her habit of visiting various vendors, careful not to appear to endorse one over the other and she often gave little coins to children. Johnny and Rose became so prominent as her personal servants, trusted by her husband, that sometimes people approached them for favors they wanted from Kim. Mostly people wanted blessings from her. She was careful not to do it often and sometimes told supplicants that she woudl pray for them. It had been a life-saver and her reputation remained free of new anecdotes of her angelic nature. Not that it stopped people from making up stories. Like, when she helped an elderly woman cross the street and people said that her touch cured the woman's gout. Or when she was asked to hold a baby, who was squirming and crying. Kim had no idea what ailed the baby, but she sung to put him to sleep, rubbing his back, and he quieted down. She gave mother enough money to seek a healer for cure and went her way. Later, she was told the baby had hernia around his bellybutton, and the healer treated it, but people claimed that it was her, who healed the infant.

She didn't know whether to laugh or cry at this twist in her life here. Jack thought it amusing and liked to tease her about it. He liked to say that despite her angelic nature, horses seemed to become restless when she rode them. This particular failing of her was annoying her and she was determined to master it by the time they had to travel to Devon. Jack's father invited them to visit him on Christmas and Kim fretted over the gifts she was supposed to present to her in-laws.

* * *

Lady William Bruer, the elder, was spitting mad. She had never felt such anger before. Her husband all but ignored her for years and looked upon her as an annoying insect. He avoided being in her chambers ever since he got that Usher whore and even when the whore died, he never came back to her. It was as if in her death, the unmarried harlot gained some aura of legitimacy and appeal. And there was a bastard, who managed to look more like her husband than her own son and heir. Everyone pitied and ridiculed her. Even the servants. Her only consolation was that her son, Cai, was the rightful heir and had been firmly on her side. She waited for the moment her husband would die and her son would ascend to barony. She would have her respect then. It helped that despite his physical resemblance to the father, Jack Bruer was not particularly close to him. The boy was a little more than an animal, poorly cared for and scarred. His own mother's family hated him and he had little support beyond his own fighting skills and a name.

However, all that changed when he married some orphan from the continent and was sent to Torquay. Initially, she rejoiced: it was an exile and it removed the other claimant away from Devon. But then the rumors started trickling out of that cursed place. The boy rose in prominence and had installed himself in clan matters of Ushers. His wife, who everyone initially dismissed, gained a very peculiar reputation. The commoners loved and adored her: she was supposedly kind and sweet and, most importantly, she 'tamed' the Wolf. Cai, when she asked about this Lady Isabelle, only frowned and called her uncouth and unladylike. And yet, this uncouth woman was favored by the Baron himself. Her husband returned from Torquay unusually pensive and she noticed his eyes lingering on their son in calculating fashion. And this was enough for the Lady Bruer: her ever present fear that Cai would lose his status as an heir was materializing before her eyes. Would Baron consider the Wolf to be his heir?

Never. Lady Bruer would do everything, but her son's rival would get nothing. Nothing!

She confronted the Baron herself one evening. After ordering the maids out of the dining hall, the enraged woman rushed to speak to her husband. That she had to use this method to even get an audience with her own husband was insulting. And, finally, seeing him without his usual retinue of servants, she rushed to demand justice without hesitation. He hd to promise that Cai would remain the heir, but her husband wasn't in the mood.

"Enough!" the Baron nearly shouted, forcing her to jump back in fear. "I'm tired of hearing your complaints! At least once in all these years being my wife were you happy? Always the same complaint, always the same nagging. He is my first-born, yet it is not enough for you? If this solves the problem and stops all your claims, then I will deprive your son of the title of the heir!"

Lady Bruer's heart seized in fear. No, that wasn't what she wanted! It could not be! Impossible!

"What? But ... but you can not ..." she wheezed out in a shaking voice.

"I can not?" the Baron asked almost kindly, lifting the corners of his lips in a smile that looked like the smirk. "When you became my wife and birthed a son, did you think you could command me?"

The woman stepped back, looking at him with frightened eyes. It was not the first time she had seen her husband's resemblance to the cursed second son. The Baron looked like an amused animal watching a small prey flounder. His lips smirked just like that of the Wolf! She was right to worry about the wolf, but she forgot to be wary of the Wolf's father. And that was seemingly her grave mistake.

Lady Bruer bowed deeply before her husband, "No! I wouldn't dare. I apologize for disturbing you."

The Baron got up and left without saying a word, leaving a terrified and fuming woman behind.

She couldn't demand her reassurances from the Baron, but she could achieve her goals another way. Rumors had it that the Wolf was immune to poisons and could avoid death almost like he had the seer by his side. That old crow Lady Leona tried and failed multiple times. But was his wife equally impervious?

* * *

What Kim didn't expect when she arrived in Devon was to see how different it looked from the castle in her time. The only thing she recognized were the lake and the castle walls. The main building was either entirely rebuild or has been added on multiple times to make it so unrecognizable from this structure. She and Jack were shown to their rooms and she caused a minor hiccough when she insisted on sharing the same bedroom as her husband. Jack was almost immediately called to see his father and consult on some matters. Kim ordered Rose to unpack and draw her a bath.

So, it was some two hours later that Kim went to stroll through the castle and try to find any landmarks she missed. She didn't expect to run into Lady Bruer when she found a hothouse. The older woman looked thin and worn, but her smile was amiable and she greeted Kim politely.

"Lady Isabelle! I welcome you here. We have not met you yet. I am Lady Bruer, the Baron's wife," the woman said and invited Kim to join her at the small table, where she was cutting herbs. "I'm almost done and then I was planning to have some refreshments. I believe my servants are coming soon. Join me and and we will get to know each other better. We are family now. We should often meet for a conversation."

Kim inwardly smirked. She heard Jack talk about his step-mother. From what Kim could tell, the woman was obsessed with her son's status and hated Jack on principle. Kim promised herself to be polite, so she calmly accepted the offer.

"Here, please try this tisane, I receive it directly from London. It's very tasty."

For some time the ladies drank tea and exchanged meaningless words about the weather and the landscape. Then Lady Bruer started on the serious topic.

"I heard you and you husband have made great strides. The Baron came back very impressed with how things are in Torquay. It pleases me that he was pleased. He is a great leader and his sons should be like him. You have met my son, haven't you? Then you have also heard that my son is an heir to the barony," Lady Bruer cooed sweetly, showing her dimples, looking intently at Kim. For her part, Kim thought it was a very unsubtle approach, so she remained quiet. Lady Bruer decided to change tactics. Smiling even more, she spoke again, "Oh, I am glad to have met you. You seem like a gentle soul. At least that was peasants think. But, our station is such that we must respect it with out behavior. If you stay here longer, perhaps I can show you how a true lady of our station must act. It takes more than kindness and piety to be a great lady." Then she 'appeared' to have realized what she said. "Forgive me, I did not want to upset you. Please do not be angry with me."

"Thank you for your concern, milady," Kim said with a smile. "I understand my role very well. I have tried to support my husband with all my abilities. Lady Marshal didn't find me particularly lacking, but, you understand, I have lost my memories and some things will take time. If I am not what you expected for in a daughter-in-law, I will make every effort to please you. Perhaps, your husband woudl be of help? He was so kind to me when we last met."

Kim was so saccharine and polite, her teeth hurt. She wanted to leave this conversation so badly, but propriety demanded that she be polite to her step-mother-in-law. The woman'd face was pinched and she looked less than thrilled to have more of Kim's company. Obviously, Kim's last words alluding to Baron Bruer's approval didn't sit well with Lady Bruer. She smiled in a pained fashion.

"But, goodness me, you must be tired from your trip. And here I am prattling on. Go and rest, dear."

Passing through the rooms of castle, Kim looked around the spacious bright rooms, deciding where the portrait gallery from her time would be. She walked on, trying to remember the turns she'd made to find her way back. She was so curious about this place, thinking if there was a key to her time-travel located somewhere here that she did not immediately notice the slowly building burning sensation in the stomach area. She hoped it woudl pass before dinner as she turned around to go back to her rooms. She ignored the unpleasant sensations, but the small tremors of pain became more and more frequent and by now she felt like her stomach was turning itself into knots that burned with pain. And after a couple of minutes, she could not stop herself from moaning.

"Milady?" she heard a soft voice of some servant in the hallway. Where was she? Kim wanted to say something, but instead of words a spray of blood sprung from her mouth and then she fell into darkness.

A/N: Sorry, sorry, sorry... A cliff-hanger...


	31. Chapter 31

The scene that Jack saw would forever remain in his memory as one of the most frightening of all that he had seen before. Kimberly lay on her side, pressing a hand to her stomach, underneath her cheek was a pool of blood, her skin and clothes stained with tears and dust, and a deathly pale face was distorted by a mask of pain. Rose, her faithful servant, who came with them to Devon, was holding Kimberly's head with her face bent over her mistress anxiously.

It took a heartbeat and he was near her, falling to his knees on the floor and pulling Kimberly out of the girl's grasp to gently press her body against him, not noticing that he was getting stained in blood.

"Please do not leave me," he called her quietly, wanting to get at least one sign from her that she was still here. She opened her eyes slightly, and her bloodless lips quivered.

"Now ... I know ... what ... it was ... like ... when ... you ... had ... been near death ..." she whispered with difficulty, stopping to get air after every word.

He choked on air when he heard it: what was she thinking about at this moment. Who cared about him? He survived, but Kimberly... His angel hadn't had to train her body like he did...

"My lord," said the senior servant that his father sent with Jack, when a young stable boy interrupted their council with news of Kimberly's fainting. The servant looked serious and thoughtful, like an experienced officer on the battlefield. "We need to make Lady Isabelle to expel most of the poison and administer the anti-dote."

"You think it was poison?" his voice rose at the end to a booming level and it echoed in the hall.

The servant nodded and turned Kimberly's head to the side and facing down as he spoke to her, "Milady, you have to try to expel all that you have eaten or drank."

"Where's the healer?" Jack shouted, not letting go of the light and pliable body in his arms and not moving from the spot. "Don't you have one here in Devon? Bring one right now!"

"My lord, I'm already here!" a ponderous elderly man in a blue vest ran into the hallway, barely able to breathe from a quick run. "I'm ready! Let's move Lady Isabelle to a bed in the infirmary!"

"It's in your own interest that she survives," the Wolf said, his voice low and dangerous, but he wasn't looking at the healer. Kimberly was not entirely conscious as her eyes looked unfocused with blown pupils and her face paled even more.

He carried her to the infirmary and sat in bed with her still in his arms.

Just sitting and doing nothing was unbearable. He could only listen to the sounds of a weak heartbeat and inaudible breathing -the only indicators that she was alive. He could not let go of her - he was afraid that then she would leave him again. The healer gave something to her and she convulsed and coughed, but soon bile and brownish liquid spewed out of her mouth. It happened two more times and then she lay still, exhausted and unconscious. This time it was the healer who took measure of her pulse. He searched for the ingredients, gave quiet directions to the servant and prepared the antidote.

Jack sat still, looking irretrievably lost, as if he was back in that hard time of his life when he was utterly alone.

Finally, after a whole eternity, the doctor came up to them with a flat bowl in his hands. He stole nervous glance at Jack and settled on Kimberly's side. With a wooden spoon, he poured the medicine into her half-open mouth, gently rubbing the throat to make her swallow, and again took hold of her wrist. And a minute later he reported, looking at Jack with apprehension.

"The antidote has begun to act. Her pulse is evened out, but it was in her body for a while and she lost blood. We will have to wait for her to wake up. We can only try to make her comfortable now."

He nodded, rocking her in his hands, peering at her face, looking for signs that the danger had passed. But Kimberly was still so pale and her breathing was so shallow.

"My lord, let the servants take care of the comforts of Lady Isabelle, so that she recovers quickly. We can take her to her chambers ..."

"I shall see to that," Jack finally spoke, some sanity returning to him at the news that she was no longer poisoned. He looked up, "What else is needed?"

"Oh, nothing, only rest. After Lady Isabelle wakes up, she will need to drink more," the healer murmured, praying to himself that all this would finally end. "Oh, do not worry about Lady Bruer. When I was in a hurry to get here, she was already on her way to visit her personal healer. He came here from Torquay, by the way. I remember he became her personal attendant after he was let go from his previous employer. Was he the one who helped to cure you, my lord? That would be - what? - about five years ago, when you were poisoned..."

"Lady Bruer? Is she unwell?" Jack asked in confusion and frowned.

"Yes, my lord," the servant began to report. "Lady Bruer met Lady Isabelle upon your arrival here and invited her to tea. After that Lady Bruer felt unwell."

"Where is she now?"

"Lady Bruer was poisoned too so she was placed in one of the rooms here," one of the maidservants hovering by the door whispered in an scared voice.

"Help my wife," Jack ordered, carefully handing unconscious Kimberly into the hands of the servants. A burly servant immediately took his place and gently took Kimberly into his arms. Rose ran over to gently adjust Kimberly's head. "Take her to my chambers. Rose, find Sanders and put him to guard Lady Isabelle. You," he pointed at the healer, "are personally responsible for her well-being."

"Yes, my lord," all those present said in chorus.

And Jack headed to where his _esteemed_ step-mother was, who apparently decided to introduce herself to her step-daughter-in-law so precipitously. Jack didn't not believe it for one second that Lady Bruer has done so out of politeness. The woman barely could stand to be in the same room as him. Her hatred of him was so universally well-known that even Cai was occasionally embarrassed by his mother's attitude. That this woman would seek Kimberly out and invite for for tea was incongruent with everything she was.

So he walked to the room where his step mother was located.

"I hope you know what to say when someone asks you," the courteous tone of the amiable middle-aged woman on the bed did not fit the meaning of the words she said. The man, a healer judging the same blue vest he wore, was obviously anxious as his hands shook minutely and he didn't dare to make a move to wipe away the sticky sweat from his forehead. Oh, he knew perfectly well how to behave in the castle. But this knowledge did not absolve him from the fear with which he had to live all this time. This woman had the might of the young lord behind her, so he only nodded. "Good. Otherwise, the Wolf would find out that it was you, who helped Lady Leona in Torquay. But there is no need to revisit the past, is there? I have been to you over the years, no?"

But as soon as the last words were uttered - filled with the poison in the actual meaning and dangerous intentions they implied - the door to the room opened with a crash and the conspirators froze in the face of the Wolf's predatory eyes. The healer screamed at the sight of the young man, whose eyes promised death, grabbed at the heart, and rushed to fall to his knees.

"I'll tell you everything! I'll tell you everything! I confess!"

But the Wolf only looked at his step-mother and smiled. He smiled the same way as the time when he came to report about suppressing a revolt on the borders. It was then that he put down conditions under which he'd continue to serve as the Bruers' military commander. He demanded that Cai not be allowed to meddle in the clans affairs until he learned the politics, diplomacy, and manners. He accused her son of causing the revolt and her husband agreed. And in that same smile now she read her own sentence.

"Y-you... have no... authority... here... Only your father... can-"

"If she dies, you die. And do you think I care about what my father would do? Do you think the Baron cares if something happened to you? You, the wife he barely tolerates? Perhaps you think that you son cares? If your actions implicate him, do you think he would take your side? Or maybe he would try to cut your loose to save his own hide? Because I promise you this, if Cai knew about your plot to kill my wife, I shall kill him with my own hands."

"No! No! Not Cai! He didn't know! I confess!"

* * *

Baron Bruer, who suspected that his second son loved his wife ever since the visit to Torquay, now knew it to be the truth. When the stable boy ran into the great hall, mindless of all the high personage that was present and went straight to Jack, the Baron saw his son immediately coil into a warrior he was. His face sharpened, his body tensed, his eyes became piercing. He was always so dangerous looking, but now he looked like a weapon unsheathed.

And then the boy said those fateful words.

"My lords! Lady Isabelle is ill. She collapsed in the East Wing hallway. There is blood-"

The boy didn't finish his sentence and Jack already was running, his movements fast and precise. The Baron himself rose to his feet and made to move after his son. He motioned to the senior servant in his employ to ran after Jack. He didn't want to think it, but long life amid intrigue and greedy people taught him to be thorough. The only ones who'd benefit from Lady Isabelle's death would be those who wanted to weaken Jack. And of those there were two right here in Devon. He sent his servants to find Cai and his mother.

Cai was found in town, meeting with the sons of the most influential families at the tavern. He was tipsy and half-undressed, so the Baron had hopes his first-born wasn't involved in Lady Isabelle's sickness.

His wife was reportedly unwell herself and went to the infirmary.

When he arrived there, he found a peculiar scene. Lady Bruer's personal healer was kneeling and sobbing in the corner. Jack stood implacable and glared at Lady Bruer. And the lady was pale with tear-tracks on her face, but otherwise unhurt.

"How fares my daughter-in-law?" Baron asked formally and the healer and Lady Bruer startled to hear him speak. Obviously all their attention was on Jack.

His son didn't move and spoke without taking eyes off his wife, "She has been poisoned and, although the antidote was administered, we have to wait to see if she makes full recovery. She is still unconscious."

Baron Bruer sighed. Obviously Jack came to the same conclusions as he did and arrived her to confront Lady Bruer. Before he could speak, Jack followed up.

"I demand that Lady Bruer stand trial and be questioned under oath. I accuse her of attempting to poison my wife."

"Jack, are you not being hasty? These are very serious statements and serious accusations," the Baron tried to reason with his son. "Consider what it would do for the honor and name of this family. Moreover, she is the mother of the heir to the barony. We cannot-"

"I have proof," Jack said calmly, smiling rigidly at the frightened gaze of the Lady Bruer. "First, she was caught red-handed. One of the witnesses is a healer who helped conceal her involvement in the poisoning. Second, her maidservants are being apprehended right now for questioning. I fully expect them to corroborate the healer's testimony. And finally, she confessed to me earlier."

"My lord!" cried his wife and turned to look at him with teary eyes. "Please protect me from this beast. He barged in here, when I am so unwell and accused me of a horrible crime. This useless servant confessed to the crime and tried to malign me as well. It's a conspiracy to ruin mine's and Cai's reputations. I have no quarrel with Lady Isabelle."

The Baron looked from his wife to his son. He believed Jack and he agreed with his anger. But Lady Bruer was his wife and mother of his heir. To have her accused like this and, worse, to stand trial would do a serious damage to the Bruer name and influence. And to add to this, she was a daughter of a strong family in east Anglia. The Baron didn't want to lose their support.

All of these considerations must have reflected in his face, because Jack smirked at him in an unhappy fashion and his eyes had that dismissive look in them like he knew his father was shackled by politics of the clan leader and unable to make the right move right now. He could feel that he lost just a little more of the respect in his son's eyes.

Then Jack took a step to the side so now both the Baron and his wife were in front of him and spoke with a terrifyingly smug expression.

"If she doesn't wish to be tried, she and I can settle my grievances through a duel. As Lady Bruer is a woman, a champion can take her place. Who would stand in your place, Lady Bruer?"

The Baron almost choked. The only people available to stand in for his wife, would be himself or Cai. It was obvious that his wife arrived at the same conclusion.

"No, you cannot!" she cried and looked at Jack with a combination of fear and loathing.

"I promised you that I shall end this. Chose how you want it to be. Trial, duel, or confession and exile?"

Of course, none of the options presented by Jack were a good choice for a woman. In all three instances, her name and her son's names would be stained by the accusation.

There was a battle going on in this room and the Baron found himself on the sidelines for the first time. Jack was controlling this situation and he was driving this conversation. He clearly had a plan and was willing to see it to the end. He stared at Lady Bruer with a cold dispassionate look made more sinister by his mask.

"Choose!" he said again, his voice low and it reverberated through the small room.

"I- I- cannot! My son is innocent of this! You can't use it against him," she cried and Jack's mouth quirked a little.

"Is he now?"

"Yes, yes. He is innocent."

"Then, if you are so sure that he is innocent, you know who the real culprit is, no?" Jack finished and pinned Lady Bruer with a harsh stare. "Do you confess, Lady Bruer?"

She cried and wailed, but her lament was cut short when one of the maidservants was brought in by one of Jack's armed men. The young woman was crying and fell to her knees when she saw Jack.

"Mercy! Mercy! I beg for your mercy, my lord!" she crawled to where Jack was and pleaded. "I am to do as I was told, my lord. I had no choice!"

His men brought a skein of sorts for Jack to examine. He opened it and allowed one drop to fall on his finger, which he sniffed and then licked.

"Did you use it in the drink that your served my wife?" his tone was even, but his eyes burned with such unholy anger and hatred that even the Baron recoiled. The young woman only nodded and huddled on the floor again. "And did you do it on your mistress' orders?"

There was a deathly silence in the room and everyone looked at the the maid, who slowly lifted her head and looked at Jack's face as if hypnotized. "I did."

Jack closed his eyes briefly, absorbing the news, and then turned to his father.

"You have your proof father. Would you put your wife on trial or send her into exile?" he sounded almost disinterested in the answer and the Baron realized with certainty that Jack would exact his revenge no matter what was decided here in this room.

The Baron had just few minutes to decide the fate of his wife and his first-born, who would be implicated in his mother's actions. And whatever he decided, that decision would forever shape his relationship with Jack.

"Son, I want a few moments with my wife alone. Then I shall declare my decision."

They stared at each other for a long time and then Jack nodded and turned to leave. "Remember my promise to you, Lady Bruer."

When the room was cleared of others, the Baron sat heavily on his wife's bed.

"My lord, I plead for mercy. He is blinded by hate and my ser-"

"Milady, please cease this useless ploy. It is you who is blinded by hate. All Jack ever wanted was family and he found it with the young woman, who is now struggling to survive. You have done him and her a grave wrong that you must atone for."

She cried and he almost felt pity for the plight of this woman.

He turned to pick up the skein that was brought in earlier.

"I think you need to finish what you started if you want to protect your son. Jack won't rest easy and he shall see this through the end. This is your chance to save your son, milady."

She shook like a leaf in the wind and stared at the skein with sightless eyes.

"What ... What will happen to my son?" she asked hoarsely, holding back the tears.

"Nothing. He stays here," the Baron said simply, turning away indifferently. "He won't be stripped of his title."

She looked at him intently, "Have you ever forgotten her? Or did you always mourn her?"

"I regret that I hurt so many people. Especially Jack."

Her eyes flashed bitterly and she spoke with subdued anger, "He looks too much like you with her eyes. How I hate him for that..."

"You have made a mistake thinking you can take on the Wolf. I regret the life he had to live, but that life prepared him to endure and to survive. It is something that our son lacks."

"You promise that Cai would be your heir?" her red rimmed eyes pierced his.

"It is his right, milady."

With a final nod, Lady Bruer drank the poison in one swig.

It was a little later that she convulsed and coughed blood and soon she relaxed in the final rest. The Baron closed her eyes and left the room.


	32. Chapter 32

A/N: This is a penultimate chapter and it's a bit short.

* * *

The Christmas time in Devon castle was particularly somber that year. Lady Bruer, wife of the Baron William Bruer and mother of Cajus Bruer, has passed away after being poisoned. She wasn't the only victim of the terrible plot: Lady Isabelle, wife of the second son of the baron - Jacob William Bruer, has been poisoned as well.

The perpetrator of the crime was Lady Bruer's healer, who came into her service after being employed by Lady Leona of Torquay. No one knew for sure his reasons but given the well-known hostility of Lady Leona towards Jack Bruer, it was believed that the true victim was Lady Isabelle and Lady Bruer merely happened to be caught in the cross-fire.

The Baron and his first-born were bereaved, and Cai in particular was affected by the loss of a parent. He volunteered to execute the healer and the maid, who were implicated in the plot. Only his father's insistence stopped the young man from becoming an executioner. Everyone expected that his brother, the dreaded Wolf, would murder the plotters for he was known for his savagery and swiftness of action. But the rumors of his taming must have been true - even though his wife was ill from the effects of the poison, he didn't participate in the interrogation of the healer and the maid or their trial. He didn't even attend their execution.

In fact, inhabitants of the castle noticed some peculiar developments in the relationship of the three Bruer men. Where previously the two brothers were visibly hostile to each other, now there was a certain armistice between them. Cai was observed visiting his brother's quarters. It might have been that Cai sympathized that his brother's wife was suffering the ill-effects of the poison that took Lady Bruer's life.

More intriguingly, the Baron and his second son, who previously were reliably amiable to each other, were barely on speaking terms. Yet many ascribed it to the Wolf's apparent worry over his wife's health. Though it was a shocking thing to observe, most people agreed - he truly cared for his wife. He spent every free moment with her in his quarters. Unfortunately, the reports were not optimistic: the young lady hasn't woken up since the poisoning.

The winter season, that seemingly faltered in its arrival as it was unusually warm autumn, has finally commenced. And as if compensating for the late start, it came with the big first snowfall that blanketed everything in white. People all over Devon rejoiced in the end of the rain and the first frost that made the roads passable again. Children played in the snow and peasants were ready to rest before spring. Everyone was in the good spirits.

And only the castle seemed to be immune to the good cheer. For after the Lady Bruer was put to rest, the castle braced for possibly having another death in their midst. The servants moved on tiptoe and officials spoke in a whisper. This winter, only six months after the much talked about nuptials of the second Bruer son, his young bride was on the death's door.

For more than three weeks there was constant movement around Jack's quarters as the best healers who could be found during that time were spending their nights and days there. But, no matter how great their efforts were, they could not help. The ill-effects of the poison seemed to trigger something in the young body and she slept as if enchanted by an evil witch. At present, the healers were only concerned with keeping the body alive and her servants spent time using droppers and beakers to administer water and some nourishment to a sleeping lady. But despite all of their actions, the long sleep was taking its tall and healers were afraid that any more days without waking and Lady Isabelle would expire from malnutrition. She was dying, and with her, it seemed, her husband was dying too.

Life in the castle was still. The courtiers tried to share their worries in the corners - they remembered very well how the Wolf quickly and resolutely attacked anyone who meant any harm to his bride. Stories of his savagery to the bandits and his own family in Torquay were well known by everyone. It was no surprise that the healer and the maid that served the poison to the two Bruer ladies were punished so severely, as were their families. Devon residents were anticipating worse if the young lady did pass away. At this point everyone looked at the guest wing of the castle with the superstitious horror.

Now everyone was anxiously awaiting the outcome of this drama. Even the opponents of the Wolf and his angelic wife did not gloat but were anxious about what would happen to the Wolf and the whole of Devon if, or when, she died.

* * *

Jack sat next to Kimberly's bed and held her hand. She lost so much blood in the time before the antidote could be administered that she was still pale, and her body was colder than it should have been. Rose and Sanders would warm large stones near the fireplace and put those around Kimberly to warm her up, but it only lasted for a brief moment.

He held her hand and remembered those few words they spoke to each other before she lost her consciousness for the second time. His father just informed him that Lady Bruer died from the effects of the poison and Jack barged into the room to find the empty skein in Lady Bruer's bed. He whirled back at this father and looked at his sire in horror. He knew his father to be a dispassionate politician and a consummate leader of the vast land, but this ... this callousness with which he dispatched his wedded wife - yes, long despised and unloved one, but still a wife and a mother of his child - all to protect the reputation of his family and the standing of Cai as an heir, it shocked Jack.

He reeled from the realization that his father probably saw them all as assets or liabilities in his never-ending calculus of accumulating power. It made Jack sick as if he was the one who drank the poison.

Before he could say anything to the Baron, Rose burst into the room breathing heavy from having run fast and far.

"My- lord... Lady Isa-bel-le... She is- awake, but- very weak. Come quick!"

He ran too, scaring people in the hallways. His chambers were full of people and he was immediately anxious and mad that so many people were in proximity to Kimberly and he bellowed for them to leave. People scrambled out in fear and he even shoved the ones that were too slow. And then he collapsed on the bed with her, holding her in his embrace, trying to keep his elusive treasure with him. Kimberly breathed fast and shallow as she couldn't get enough air. He rubbed her back, hoping to soothe her and to lend her his strength to take as much air as she needed. But she had other ideas and she tried to talk to him despite her condition.

"Please, listen ..."

"If you're going to give me your lectures about my behavior, you better save your strength for recovery," Jack said, trying not to show his fear for her.

"Please, listen," Kimberly smiled forcefully and opened her eyes. "You must live ... You will live a long life full of great achievements. Promise me that you will not abandon Torquay, Devon, this country. Promise that you will take care of yourself after my ...

"Why do I need this life and these accomplishments? My life is you!" he rushed to interrupt.

"Because it's your destiny. Please, promise me that you will live ..."

"Kimberly," Jack Bruer, the feared Wolf, whispered desperately.

"Kim."

"What?"

"Kim. Call me that at least once," she whispered.

"Kim. Kim. Kim. Don't leave me Kim. Stay with me. Please, Kim. I- I love you, Kim..."

"Do not worry about me ... I have this theory. I will tell you. In my time, I've seen, read all this sci-fi stuff: they talk about temporal loops and time paradox... Even physically speaking, my body... It shouldn't exist here... I got into this world in England from another time. From the time that will come hundreds of years after ... I do not know how it happened... Maybe I am taking someone else's place here... Isabelle Corneille's... Perhaps, dying here, I will return in my correct time ... I say this because I can't stand to look at your pain because of me. I will not be here, but I may be alive somewhere, no, sometime, else. And you - you must live ... Only, please, remember me ... Don't forget me ..."

"Kim, please ... Kim! KIM!"

But she fell unconscious again and no matter how much he screamed or shook her, she wouldn't wake up.

He barely noticed how the room filled again and the healer was prying his hands off Kim's body... He didn't remember how he fought, and it took three of his men to drag him away. He only saw her pale face, surrounded by the light hair, looking peaceful in her slumber...

She looked angelic.

Someone took his elbow and led him out of his quarters. Later the healers told him that she was in that state between life and death and it was only the will of Heaven's that would help her now.

* * *

When the fourth week of her slumber passed, the healers quietly told him to prepare for the worst. He knew they were correct: Kim looked frail and despite their best efforts, she was thinner and paler each day. Her face was sunken, and her pulse slowed up so much, it took uncomfortably long between each heartbeat. The end was near.

He spent all his days and nights holding her hand. Sleep evaded him, and he thought of her last words. If there was God, then she would return to her time where she didn't have to worry about poisons and high-way bandits and scheming in-laws.

It was on the anniversary of their wedding, exactly seven months since she became his wife, that Kim drew her last breath. Her hand in his became ice-cold and he her knew it was the end of her existence here, but he held onto her still.

"She's dead, my lord. You do not need to stay here," Rose whispered, looking at the face of her master with pain. "Be reasonable."

Seeing nothing and staggering with grief, Jack silently stepped back and walked along the corridor. People avoided looking at him, but he did not notice anyone.

Without him realizing, his feet led him to the lake, the very same one Kim told him she jumped into to save a boy. He didn't dare to imagine it: his heart was torn already, and he didn't want to imagine any more misfortunes happening to her. He stood there: not the great warrior, not the second son of the lord, not the Wolf, who inspires fear and horror with his name alone, but just a man who lost the most precious person that he had. He kneeled on the shore effortlessly and dropped his head low. He could not breathe: his heart already broken into pieces and he was afraid to lose even those fragments of the heart, which caused so much pain. Because if those pieces were gone, then the pain would be gone, and this pain was the only thing left for him of her. He wanted to howl like a wolf, but only managed a pained groan. How could he live without her?

He threw his head back, looking at the stars above him. Didn't she tell him once that in her time it was hard to see the stars because people made so much light, stronger than thousand candles? She told him that people would harness the power unimaginable and could travel to the moon. He didn't know then whether he believed her. Such things were simply too fantastical. But right now, he truly wanted to believe her stories, he wanted to believe her final words: that she would go back to her time and she would be hale there.

And then his heart broke anew: she would be there, but he - would not.

He howled in pain then, knowing that she would be alone there just as he was alone here.

He was cursed after all: it was his unlucky wolf star that made him so happy just to rip it from him.

His only consolation was that he only had to endure two and half decades of this. She told him - and he wanted to believe her - that he would live another twenty-five years. And then, if fate was merciful to him, he would meet her again in his afterlife. Until then, he would live as she asked him to. He would live and honor her life every day. He would be pious, he would not quarrel with his brother, he would defend the country, and Devon and Torquay. He would see that Rose and Anne and Johnny were all doing well. He would be fair, and he would thrive to be kind. He would be the man she loved… The man who deserved her love...

* * *

After a restless night, it was an amazingly quiet morning. The residents of Torquay gathered for the ritual of parting with the young mistress and waited only for Jack the Wolf to appear. The Baron and his heir were somber, and one could say that the deaths of Lady Bruer and Lady Isabelle must have acted as the catalyst for these two to become closer to the Wolf. The faces of those present were filled with a poorly concealed impatience. Everyone was tired of the suspense and quietly readied themselves for the pain and horror that the now unleashed Wolf would visit on them all. There was no angelic wife to stop him now.

Then the doors opened of the castle chapel opened and Jacob Bruer, dressed in his all black clothes (something people almost forgot was his habit), walked in.

Gazing around the audience with an unreadable gaze, he took a deep breath and stepped forward resolutely, as he always went into battle to meet numerous enemies.

He had twenty-five years still.


	33. Chapter 33

Kim woke up in the hospital and at first was terrified that she couldn't move. Her flailing caused some machine to start pinging and suddenly the room was full of people in doctors' white coats and nurses. One of them gently pulled a tube out of her throat and mouth and Kim discovered that she could barely talk.

A glass of water later and she managed to croak out an ultimate question, "Why am I here"

It turned out that she was in coma for a long time - almost a full year and doctors called her waking 'a miracle.' She could remember who she was and her life. The last memory she had was of jumping into the lake to save a boy. Apparently, she overestimated her skills and began to drown. She was rescued, but not before she spent enough time underwater to have lost consciousness. She was without oxygen for a while and doctors were worried that she'd become a vegetable when she didn't wake up from the fainting.

She slept for almost a year and woke up in the spring.

The coma had some lasting effects. She had to learn anew how to walk and do most basic physical functions because her muscle tone was gone and some neural connections had to be reestablished. Her family's relocation to California was postponed while she was in the hospital. She missed about half of the school year, but her mother insisted on homeschooling and was reasonably prepared to have Kim pass the necessary exams by the end of the summer.

At first, the rigors of physical therapy and, later, the added strain of catching up with the academic requirements kept her busy enough that she would simply collapse at night with hardly a dream. But couple of months after waking, the dreams began. They were unclear and fleeting at first that she didn't pay much attention. Initially, it was just a vision of something black that was moving fast at her and she would sometimes wake up with a pounding heart. Later the moving black object became a horse that galloped at her and she would wonder when she would have seen something like this. Slowly, but surely, the dreams always coalesced into some scenes that made little sense. There was the black horse with a rider, whose face she couldn't make out. Then there was a market stall, where she purchased a green ribbon. Then there was a castle with people in medieval garb like it was a Renaissance fair. Or it was her dressed in a romantic dress with long sleeves playing a lute. None of it made sense and she mentioned it to her doctors. They confirmed that her brain functions during coma were completely within the norm of the coma-state, but as this particular medical phenomenon wasn't greatly studied, it was possible that the lack of oxygen and her physical surroundings at the time of the drowning (a castle in Devon) created a sort of false impression in her mind.

She accepted the explanation, but her dreams didn't stop there. More and more often she saw faces in her dreams: women, men, children - all dressed in the same medieval fashion. She had conversations with them in French and another language that sounded Germanic to her. The doctors, intrigued by her continuous 'false impression' mental construct, asked her to keep a journal and she was startled to realize just how detailed her dreams became.

There was only one detail that seemed to be obscure in her dreams - a face of the man, who was a constant presence. He was important somehow to her - she could tell that much from how she felt in her dreams: she was wary of him, she respected him, she sympathized with him, she cared for him. Sometimes she laughed hard with him and sometimes she felt like crying. But no matter how often she saw him, his face wasn't clear.

About four months after she woke up she started to suspect that her dreams - if they weren't just constructs of her oxygen deprived mind - were memories of sorts. Was it her past life? But it made little sense! Why could she understand Beowulf in its original form? How did she know so much about the life in 11th century England? Why, suddenly, she knew about balancing books? Why?!

* * *

Jack hasn't planned on becoming the youngest person to graduate from the Otai Academy with honors. It just so happened. He also didn't plan to become his grandfather's heir apparent, but his skill in karate virtually guaranteed it. He became the face of grandfather's school and business and Jack was featured in the magazines as the teenage entrepreneur. His parents took it almost for granted.

Since he was a small child, Jack's parents constantly heard from others that they had an exceptional child and he would grow up to be an influential adult in the position of power. Of course, Jack's response to that was always that he would become a vet or a dog breeder. Despite his passionate love for the dogs or any canines, his mother didn't let him have even a tiniest dog. It was especially upsetting since his parents rarely said no to him.

It was when he turned six that he started to understand that something in his relationship with his parents was lacking. Something wasn't like relationships of the friends of the family. That was to say that his parents were quite ordinary, just like any other parents. They took him to school and read to him at night and gave him the tastier bits of food. All in all, they acted like the loving parents of a child. It was him who seemed to be lacking...

It might be that he was born this way - lacking... As he grew and learned more about science, he wondered if he had some sort of psychological disorder. Or maybe he lacked a crucial chromosome in his DNA and the result was this... detachment.

Because he never, ever, even when he was scared, called for his mom. Didn't miss her when he was in the daycare; didn't ran to her in the morning; or required any special attention when injured.

Of course he tolerated her hugs like any boy - with stoic acceptance. He dodged any attempted kisses and often got a bit of nagging for his trouble. His mom had often complained to her friends that it was as if Jack was raised by the wolves...

Jack cautiously talked to his friends about their moms and concluded that they all were like this, and it was normal, and all he had to do was pretend to love and care. It was a good practice for him later on when he was in front of cameras. He became good at faking.

He was the only child in the family, which was both a comfort and a source of worry. His only child status was vaguely discomforting as if there was something wrong. But... he didn't have to share toys or food with anyone. He suspected that sharing things was probably not as pleasant as children's cartoons made it out to be. In fact, not having enough food was painful. How he knew it, he couldn't say. When this sort of thinking got to be too much, he would hide in his room among toy dogs.

His favorite book was Little Red Riding Hood, which was the source of many jokes from his father and cousin. They'd say it was a book for little girls; that a boy as advanced as him shouldn't like this fairy tale. But still, when he went to bed, Jack would grab the worn book and hide it under the pillow. When he touched the hard cover, he felt calmer and warmer. Later, when he was older and made his first money, he bought a painting that caught his eye. It was of a giant gray wolf that was towering over a tiny Red Riding Hood, protecting her from the rain: sitting on her knees she leaned her head into the wolf's side with trust.

His father chuckled, his cousin rolled his eyes, his mom smiled, but Jack felt better with the painting being the last thing he saw before falling asleep.

Because his sleep was never easy. He had such vivid dreams and nightmares, which he sometimes remembered well into the morning. Sometimes the nightmares were scary and blood stained. Sometimes the dreams were cozy and filled with such tenderness that Jack woke up filling the sense of acute loss. It made no sense for him to feel this sense of longing, but he was sure that he lost something very important and this feeling became a constant in his life.

And sometimes he swore he saw a girl's face in his dreams. He searched for her everywhere, but her face wasn't very clear. He just was sure he'd recognize her if he ever saw her.

* * *

Kim gave up thinking that her dreams were just the by-product of the coma. She wondered if she was haunted, but then the family of the boy she saved extended an invitation for her to visit England, she agreed. Her parents were less than thrilled with her going back to a place where she suffered an accident, but surprisingly her doctors supported her. They threw in terms like 'closure' and 'reorientation' and 'acclimation,' and her parents agreed.

In was in early summer that Kim and her mother traveled to London. They stayed there briefly and Kim, spurred by her detailed dreams, asked to visit the Southern coast. A town called Torquay in particular. It was a thriving tourist and vacation destination with a suitably old manor on the hill. Her first visit to the old town center gave her the severe sense of deja-vu. It was here that in her dreams she shopped for fabrics and bought rose oil. Her feet had a mind of their own and she walked to the manor, which looked so different from her dreams that she questioned her own sanity. Of course, it turned out that the manor was rebuilt a few times. But then she saw the weeping willow by the pond and a memory - vivid and visceral - rushed at her like a great wave.

 _"You're mine... Do you hear me? Mine. My person. And you can't disappear without my permission. You can't. You can't even die. I won't allow it... I won't let go..."_

Someone choked these words out in great distress and she heard the voice so clear... Then the face, the same face of the man she always saw in her dreams, came into her mind's eye... But all she could see were the chocolate hair sweeping the forehead and coming down his face...

Kim startled and looked around as if this mysterious man would be somewhere close to her...

There was no one around and Kim shook her head at this flight of fancy.

Later, when she visited the town's oldest church, the guide was giddily telling them the lore of the land. Supposedly, there was a great lady that married the local lord and she was so pure of heart that people believed her to be an angel. No one new the particulars of the story - the name of the lady or of her husband long lost to history. But there was an old fresco-style painting found when the church was remodeled. It was covered up sometime in the late 16th century. When it was discovered people connected the stories about the angel incarnate, and the more predominant legend about the old family that used to rule this land. Supposedly, the founder of the family was raised by the wolves. He was lost to his family at the young age, but didn't die in wilderness. Instead he was taken in by a pack of wolves. When he was found by his father, the young man proved to be an exceptional warrior. People concocted a story of him marrying an angel and that explained the fresco in the old church.

It was an amusing story as any, but when Kim saw the famed fresco, she was brought short.

There was a faded and damaged depiction of the young woman sitting by the lake. Her hair was loose around the shoulders and she was dressed in a romantic, long-sleeved dress. Her face was downcast and she was hugging a large wolf, curled at her feet. The wolf was almost black and the woman's hair was blonde, and together they were touchingly intimate. It must have been the talent of the artist, but Kim could almost feel the emotions of the woman and the wolf. She stared at the painting and wondered why she felt so connected to it. More memories flooded her and she recalled the cries of the crowd in the old English.

 _"Wulf! Wulf! Curs!"_

She shook her head, her eyes filled with tears. _No, he wasn't a wolf. He was human. He was a man. The best man she knew._

She came to when she felt her mother shaking her slightly. Apparently she spent almost an hour looking at the fresco. She didn't miss her mother's worried glances. But she was worried herself - the dreams, the deja vu was getting stronger and she wondered if she had gone insane.

They left Torquay after that and went to Devon, where it all began. Kim wasn't sure what she planned to find there, but the suspicion she had before - that she was haunted by a ghost - turned into a belief that she experienced memories of past life. It was strange and fantastical, but what else could it be?

* * *

Jack noticed her in passing, sitting in the back of the car driven by the driver. He was in England for some business expansion opportunities and his grandfather was keen on teaching Jack the 'ropes.' While they were here, dad wanted Jack to visit Exeter in Devon. Supposedly, their family hailed from there and Jack jokingly agreed to go and visit the _'ancestral lands.'_ He came there alone, but grandpa insisted on the hired car lest 'Jack get into the accident driving on the wrong side of the road.'

' _Roads should be made smooth using tar, sand and finely ground stone.'_

 _'Or you can learn to ride horseback.'_

The snippet of the conversation - so clear in his mind - startled him out of his tiredness and looked up as they passed the streets of Exeter.

There, behind the thick glass of car windows reflecting the cityscape, stood a young petite girl with a very refined posture. Jack couldn't see her face, only her silhouette - straight back, perfectly folded hands in front, delicate line of the neck. The girl was dressed like any young woman would - a summer dress and her hair loose - but she held herself like a noble woman of the past.

For the first time in his life Jack felt like he had that muscle called _heart._ The very same one that his family thought he didn't have or it was atrophied. His heart first stopped, not allowing him to breathe, and then - a few seconds later - it hammered so hard he was sure it was visibly moving his ribcage.

The girl bowed courtly to someone with the very familiar gracefulness and then straightened, but he couldn't tell her face from the distance.

The traffic light flashed green and the car moved taking him away from the girl on the street and soon it was as if she never existed.

And Jack finally remembered how to breathe again.

"I am going insane," he thought. "But it was her."

He wanted to ignore it as the figment of the imagination he previously thought he didn't have, but eventually the memory of the girl and her graceful bow was all he could see. He recalled all the details of the encounter and concluded that she was either a tourist that stayed at the nearby hotel or she was a local who worked somewhere there. That very evening he went back to the hotel and, like a stalker, hang out in the lobby looking out the window. It was here that he heard the story that the clerks at the hotel lobby repeated. It was about a young American girl staying here, who risked her own life last year and saved the life of the local boy. The story was well known enough - and the girl stayed at this very hotel last year as well - that there was a stack of newspapers with her story. Jack picked one of them and read the article, careful not to look at her picture. Kimberly Crawford would have been an average American high schooler, were it not for her heroic act of almost a year ago. It was all very melodramatic, what with a coma and long recovery. But the thought of this unknown Kimberly Crawford struggling to breathe underwater, drowning, and then losing almost a year of life to a sleep - it cut him deep, cleaving his heart in two and he needed a minute to recover his equilibrium.

He closed the paper without looking at her picture.

If just her story, captured in a few sentences, could shake him so much, he suspected that a picture would completely destroy him.

That night he dreamt of holding hand of a young dying woman, who asked him to remember her. She told him that his destiny was to protect the country, Torquay and Devon.

He woke up with a start and a sense of loss so severe he was wiping tears from his face. What was going on? Why now? Why this girl? Nothing in her history suggested that they ever crossed paths. Why, then, he kept thinking about her?

* * *

She finally made it to the Devon castle. It was just like it was last year - and light-years away from her dream version of it. She walked the portrait gallery looking at the paintings of the important persons that lived here or had an occasion to visit. Portraits of local lords were lined chronologically and she walked further and further into the gallery, skipping over the faces of men and women becoming indistinguishable as more and more of them passed.

Then she saw the unusual face. A man in his late forties looked from the dark painting. His clothes were black and his most noticeable feature was a mask covering the left side of the face. She looked at him, his eyes drawing her in and - as in trance - she stepped closer, almost touching the surface where the mask was.

 _"I always wondered how was it that you treated me so- normally. Now I know. You came from a different world. I believe you. I trust you. You can do whatever you want with me. From now on, I am yours."_

The vision came so quickly and forcefully, it bowled her over and Kim cried from the intensity of it. It wasn't a vision... No, it was a memory. It was him - Jacob Bruer. But not really. She called him _Jack_ and others called him _Wolf._ He was scarred in his face and in his heart, but he was the best of men she knew. He was her friend, her husband, her lover... The brave and proud man, who believed her when she told him that she came from another time.

Kim collapsed on the floor in front of the painting, crying in earnest now. How cruel it was to remember and how cruel it would have been to never have recalled her life with him. She didn't question it - the how and whys of her trip to the past never made sense then and they made even less sense no. How did she end up there? How did she come back here? Only one thing mattered: she was here alone and he - he was long gone in the past. She crawled closer to the portrait to read the plaque resting there.

 _Jacob William Bruer... Lord... Warrior... Counselor... Went to Holy War... Had a son... Was pious... Opened abbeys that taught local children... Honorable man..._

He lived like she asked him to. He defended the land and the country and the king. He was kind and he... was alone without her...

"I am sorry... I am sorry I left you... I am so sorry, Jack..." she sobbed, her memories now a flood of many-many moments with him... How could she live now without him?

She had to get up and find a bench to sit on. She drank from the water bottle, the mere liquid not equipped to handle her heartache and she looked at her husband. She recalled acutely his fine features and strong body and his sense of honor. And his laughter, which only she was privileged to hear. And the infinite care about her. His patience in teaching her and his surprisingly big heart when it came to servants that worked for her. She almost choked again when she remembered him and Johnny - the little boy from the tavern, who was quick on his feet. Or Rose, the young girl of generous heart and curious mind. But most of all she remembered him - her husband.

He solitude was disturbed when a group of tourists came on a guided tour. She got up so the crowd wouldn't block the face of her husband from her, when she saw him.

He was tall, slender, with longish chocolate hair that fell into his face and ... there was no mask. And no scar. And then she locked eyes with him and they mirrored her shocked expression...

He recognized her just as immediately as she - him.

They looked at each other unable to stop staring.

He was here...

* * *

The tour guide went on and on about the history of the castle, the region, the previous ruling families, their notable members and the importance of Devon in the history of Great Britain. Jack was present and somehow managed to react when the guide's eyes landed on him. Kimberly stood to the side near a bench and didn't look away from him. In the cross-hairs of her attention Jack felt right.

He never felt so right before.

It was obvious that he never met this girl before. It was equally obvious that he knew her for centuries and he still loved her.

He didn't know how, but it was the truth.

She was very pale and at moments he thought she might faint. At one point she began to sway and Jack's own body moved with hers in some lizard brain memory of 'protect always.'

When the group moved, the two of them remained standing before the portrait of yet another historical figure. He took a step towards her and so did she. Like this, step by step, slowly, they came close and his heart stopped momentarily when he smelled the faint scent of roses on her.

She looked at him with infinite tenderness and it felt right and it felt strange at the same time.

And then she lifted her hand and run gentle fingers over his forehead, left eye and cheek. He knew there were moles and birthmarks there and her fingertips connected them into one line. Then her palm covered his eye and she briefly looked behind his back.

"I told you that on your portrait you had a beard," she smiled and he smiled back.

Somehow this girl had the right to touch him like this and to tease him like this. She smiled and he thought that if he kissed her now, she'd respond and open her mouth to him. He, too, had rights to touch her like that. Somehow he remembered her kisses, her scent, and how she felt when he hugged her.

"I always thought there was something wrong with me that I couldn't feel like other people. But I-" he swallowed thinking of the next words. "But I know I love you."

"Jack-" she whispered and a tear run down her cheek. "I am sorry I left you alone."

"Tell me," he begged and she smiled through her tears.

"I love you, Jack."

"You can never leave. I won't allow it," the words came to him effortlessly and she smiled and cried at the same time.

"I am yours. I will never, ever leave you."

Then he kissed her, pouring centuries of pain and longing into the kiss.


End file.
